Month / May 2022

by Matthew

The Call of the Writing Conference

Thinking about attending a writing conference? Here’s what you can expect!

Well I’m mostly recovered from my respiratory infection, so it’s time to talk Writing Conferences! The above photo is from the Hurst Conference Center, which is the site of the DFW Writer’s Conference (aka, DFWCon). After missing 2020 and being online-only last year, DFWCon is going in-person again October 8-9, 2022. Check it out here if you’re in the area and interested. I plan to be there! Favor the online thing? Check out Writing Day Workshops‘ online events, they do one every month (though they will resume in-person at some point in the future).

The 3 Sides to Every Writing Conference

Listed in order of importance (my opinion): Pitching, Classes, Networking

PITCHING

One of the two big reasons to go to a writing conference is the opportunity to pitch to agents. As I have discussed previously in my Lessons from Querying posts (1, 2, 3), getting representation from a literary agent is difficult. Like hitting a 100-mph fastball difficult. So finding any avenue to help you through that process will greatly increase your chances, and there is no better way to do that than in-person pitch sessions with an agent.

Why? Well in that 8 to 10-minute window, you’re given the opportunity to cross several agent hurdles at once:

  • Did you write something that is of interest to the agent?
  • Are you passionate about writing and what you’ve written in particular?
  • Did you throw your story together, or put some real effort into the crafting of it?
  • Are you a one-and-done author, or do you have a long-term writing career goal?
  • Are you rude, insensitive, bigoted, or possess other personality flaws that might prevent you from crossing the finish line with a publisher?
  • Do you seem like someone that would be fun/easy to work with?

The wrong answer to any of those is an easy reject for the agent, so it also helps them skip to the ultimate end in the event you pass the first hurdle that would have gotten you past the slush pile into deeper review.

I’ve had way more success in getting agent interest in at least reading my material from pitches than I have through cold querying. I imagine practically anyone would have the same experience, unless they’re failing one of the sanity checks in the list above.

So here’s the downside to pitches: they’re expensive. Some conferences give you a pitch as part of your conference fee, others don’t. They’ll all let you buy more, which can range from $10-$30 per session. Want to talk to ten agents? $300. That’s more than many conference fees. And you’re going to want to go to several conferences. The cost will add up fast. Why talk to that many? Because you’re still up against the odds of numbers that even if you talk to the single-most-likely agent to want to represent your work, if the timing isn’t right (list is full, they rep a similar manuscript already, they don’t have a publisher resource that would want it), you won’t have success in getting representation. A wide net is required.

And I’m gonna reveal the elephant in the room: not all agents you talk to at a conference are there to take on another author. Some of them are there simply for the additional paycheck. It’s an unfortunate side-effect of the machine of the publishing world. Agents don’t get paid for all the up-front effort they go through in scouring the planet for works to represent. They get paid for the fraction of those works that actually get published. And they’ve got to pay the bills like anyone else, so they’ll come to these conferences, go through a bunch of pitch sessions, not actually request materials from anyone, and just collect a check in the end.

Now to be fair, most agents are there to find new authors to rep. I’ve only come across a couple of these bad-faith agents in the dozens of pitch sessions I’ve done, but they’re easy to identify. They don’t ask questions about you or your work, but instead go straight into a planned spiel about the effectiveness of your pitch and ways to improve it. Sometimes they won’t even say that they aren’t interested. I just smile and take whatever feedback they deign to provide and move on.

What to Expect During a Pitch Session

Depending on your conference, pitch sessions last 8 to 10 minutes. You’re going to know who you’re pitching to ahead of time (because you’ve requested/paid to pitch to that particular agent), so you’ve already done your research. You requested that particular agent because they said they rep the kind of thing you wrote. You know their manuscript wishlist, which is typically listed on the conference website, but can also be found elsewhere on the Internet (#MSWL on Twitter, manuscriptwishlist.com, Publisher’s Marketplace, or the agent’s agency website).

When the pitch begins, spend 30-60 seconds talking to the agent as if they’re a human being. Ask how they’re doing, mention a shared hobby or pets or their Twitter feed, or a book they liked on their MWSL that you’ve also read. Be sociable. This helps check boxes from the list above. They’ll probably invite you in short order to talk about your manuscript. I won’t go into the what’s and how’s to pitch your manuscript here, but spend 4-5 minutes talking about your story, then leave the rest of the time for the agent to ask questions.

If they like you and what you’ve discussed, they’ll request pages. Some will have you send it through regular query channels. Most will have a dedicated means for you to skip ahead of the slush pile line (these are the agents that are taking the pitch sessions most seriously), usually a special Query Manager link or separate email.

If they pass, and some will because you will inevitably find yourself barking up the wrong tree on occasion, graciously accept any feedback they provide and then get yourself ready for your next pitch. Because you’re not going to pitch to just one agent, are you?

CLASSES

Anyone who has yet to become a represented and published author still probably has a thing or two to learn about writing stories and/or the publishing industry. The second big draw of a writing conference is all the various breakout room classes you can attend to drink from the proverbial author firehose. Here’s a sampling of various sessions you can expect:

  • Query letters
  • Query dos and don’ts
  • Hooking readers with your opening pages
  • Compelling dialogue
  • Crafting believable characters
  • Avoiding the “mushy middle”
  • World building
  • Author platforms and social media
  • The life of a literary agent
  • Self-publishing vs. traditional
  • Non-fiction book proposals
  • Workshops where you read your first chapter or query letter and receive feedback
  • Agent Q&A panels
  • Agent “First Page Gong Show” panels

Large conferences like DFWCon will typically also have a keynote speaker (usually a known published author) in a big audience space like the picture above. The rest of the classes will be in small, 20-30 person breakout rooms.

Most conferences will have some variation of the above. Depending on the size they’ll have some, all, or even more than the above to choose from (like genre-specific workshops for say thrillers or romance). Once you’ve gone to a few conferences, you’ll find the vast majority of the advice inside any one of the sessions is the same, so the return you’ll get from these classes will diminish over time because you will presumably have already been taking the lessons to heart and applying what you’ve learned to your craft and your queries.

The “Gong Show” panels are where a handful of agents will sit and listen as a moderator reads an anonymously submitted first page from a conference attendee (submit yours if you’re brave!). Each agent raises their hand at the point when they would have stopped reading and rejected the query, and if enough agents raise their hand, the moderator will stop reading and then discussion will ensue. These panels are the most useful conference session to me (having attended many conferences in the past few years), as they provide insight from a handful of agents as to what the publishing world is looking for right at that very second. It also reveals the sheer subjectivity of the matter when an agent starts reading a prospective manuscript. Very easy to identify flaws in your own approach to the first page when the agents are all raising their hands at the point when they would have stopped reading. Usually in an hour, the panel will get through 10-12 submissions, and typically only one or two make it through the full page read without most or all of the agents raising their hand and the moderator stopping early.

NETWORKING

Here’s where the online and in-person conferences diverge, as there is limited-to-no networking taking place during online conferences. If you’re like me and find it hard to walk up to random strangers and start making small talk, you won’t find this a huge loss. Online conferences usually lean on social media as the forum for attendees to talk to each other (with limited to middling results).

Big conferences like DFWCon have networking time in the evenings where authors, agents, and others can meet and mingle. Adult beverages will be on offer. The prospect of having time to talk to agents outside of a short pitch session is attractive, but in my experience the opportunities for this are few. Most agents don’t attend the networking hours, and those that do are mobbed. There are hundreds to thousands of writers at these conferences and maybe a couple dozen agents tops. The numbers are not in your favor to get quality alone time with an agent, much less the one that you really want to talk to that reps what you wrote. If you have a positive pitch session with an agent and can arrange to meet with them at the networking event ahead of time, then great. But don’t count on it.

What can you expect to get out of the networking time? You’ll find a few freelance editors and cover art designers milling about, handing out business cards and looking for prospective clients. If you’re in the market for such services, avail yourself. But the vast majority of people there are writers, just like you. If you don’t have a solid group of writers you work with for feedback and accountability, then this could be a good chance for you to find some new peeps.

Attend, rinse, repeat.

There you have it. Now all you gotta do is find a writing conference to attend and get your butt in the chair. Hope to see you there! M

by Matthew

Gone Viral

Hi everyone. I’ve not vanished off the face of the Earth, but I have contracted a rather stubborn non-COVID respiratory infection that has had me sidelined for over two weeks now. I am slowly improving and hope to have some new stuff for you soon, including my reaction from an Evening with Neil Gaiman here in Dallas as well as lessons learned from a recent writing conference. Stay tuned!

by Matthew

Remain in Character, Characters!

Actors work hard to remain in character for their films. Some, such as Daniel Day Lewis (above, in Gangs of New York) go so far as to stay in character even while not shooting, to maximize their approach to authenticity. As writers, we have to make sure the characters we are putting to the page remain just as true to who and what they are.

I’m in the car quite a lot and have developed a pretty voracious audiobook habit whilst driving. To improve my own writing, I go through 1-3 books a week at 1.5-2x speed to analyze every story I can cram into my ears. If you’re an audiobookphile and haven’t checked out the Libby app, I highly recommend it. Because it’s free. All you gotta do is connect it to your local library account, and you’ll potentially have access to thousands upon thousands of audiobooks, courtesy of your (already paid for via taxes) library. I can’t imagine my Amazon bill if I was paying Audible for all the audiobooks I go through in a year. Sheesh.

Anyhoo, I digress. I started a new audiobook today (from a bona fide publisher) and a couple hours in got smacked into the face with one of my worldbuilding pet peeves, a failure to keep a character in character. It’s something that many, many writers do without thinking, and (apparently) many professional editors miss during editing.

A character said something they shouldn’t have said.

I don’t mean the character misspoke, or accidentally revealed a secret, or anything like that. In this story, a YA sci-fi tale, the protagonist heard and felt an unfamiliar rumbling and compared it to thunder.

What’s the problem with that? Well, our hero lives in space, on space stations, and has her entire life. In this book’s fictional universe, the people do not have a terrestrial existence. I imagine it’s possible she would have learned of thunder through school or film or whatever. But would it be so ingrained into her speech patterns that she’d use it in a metaphor to describe that rumbling? Noooooooooooo.

Her life is spaceships and space stations. She lived among all manner of noisy, mechanical things. The rumbling could have sounded like an off-balance pressure regulator. Or a T34 Interlocking Phase Inhibitor. Or the ore tumblers at the refinery on Thrackas VII. We’re in space. She’s in space. Stay in space!

Am I being picky? Sure. I imagine plenty of readers would blow right past that and get on with the story. But not everyone. At 60+ audiobooks a year, I’m not exactly the most discriminating of consumers. But in almost every story I’ll hear a detail or two that just makes my inner worldbuilder sad. And this detail pulled me out of the story enough to want to write a blog post about it, so I imagine there are plenty of others out there whose Spidey-senses tingle every time they come across a mistake like this.

I’ll give you a couple more examples.

I did a deep-dive developmental edit for an epic other-world fantasy story for a writer in New Zealand a while back. Ten percent of the way through the entertaining tale, we’re well into the worldbuilding of a chaste anti-magic brotherhood in pursuit of an unknown magic-user among them. Low tech. A castles, swords, carts, and horses affair. A brother hands the hero a plate of food to be delivered to the head of their order. In the first person narrative, the hero describes the plate as mostly vegetables, with the only protein being a wedge of cheese.

The problem there? The word ‘protein’ is something that didn’t come around until the mid 1800s. Over a millennium after the scientific development period of the story. Yes, the story was set in a world other than Earth, but there was absolutely nothing in the writing to indicate that science had developed any farther there than it had here for the level of technology at the time.

The levels of science and technology matter in your writing, even if you’re doing something with medieval knights and castles. Because your characters have to remain in character, in both deed and word. Your knight in shining armor can’t name his speedy horse ‘Turbo’ any more than he can drive a Corvette to save the princess or use a rocket launcher to defeat the dragon. Likewise, he also can’t consider cheese as a part of a group of protein-rich foods because he can’t know about such things. The science to understand what a protein is has yet to be invented.

Later on, still a young man, the hero says he “slept like a baby”. Perfectly normal phrase, one I’m sure we’ve all used at some time or another. Except given the existence the reader is presented with, the orphan hero would have had exactly zero interactions with a baby or parent-of-a-current-baby figure his entire life. He would not be comparing anything, even sleep, to that of a baby, because babies are just not on his mind. Sure, he knows what a baby is, but there are many better ways to skin this cat. I mean, skin a razor-clawed gnurffle.

Colloquial phrases like these are opportunities to instead add depth to the world building. He slept like Old Man Shaw’s toothless guard dog Fezz. He slept like he had eaten three helpings of Father Dooba’s delicious autumn pheasant stew. He slept like he had bathed in the vat of Healer Burdock’s numbing balm she keeps locked in her secret pantry. Pick something in-world, to keep your reader in-world.

In short, we’re building entire worlds here, people. Don’t lean too much on ours, intentionally or otherwise, lest your characters briefly leap out of their boots into a different time or place!

Vigilance and creativity, my friends. M

by Matthew

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the 8/10 Rings

If you’re anything like me, you enjoy a good time at the movies. Marvel movies scratch that itch for me, and millions of others. The sheer enormity of the MCU is mind-blowing, and generally even the subpar outings for Marvel (Ironman 3, Eternals) are better than anything their peers are throwing at the screen.

But when Marvel gets it right (Avengers 1, Captain America: Winter Soldier, Thor: Ragnarok), they completely knock it out of the park. Rare is the cinema experience when you leave a theater and can’t imagine any way to improve it without picking tiny nits, and Marvel has given us a handful of these.

So today I’m going to discuss Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings because 1) my daughter watched it this morning on the tail end of a weekend sleepover with her friend, 2) Marvel got oh so close to that hallowed upper echelon with this one, and 3) we can talk about why they didn’t and how they should have done things differently. Because with one major failure, they get an 8/10 stars/mystical kung fu rings/freshly baked banana bread muffins from me. Yes, I made muffins this morning while the kids were watching. So good. I ate like four. Diet starts again tomorrow.

Anyhoo, SPOILERS AHEAD.

I will skip a full recap of the plot and assume you’ve seen the flick. If you haven’t, bravo for continuing to read, but seriously go watch it. It’s a good movie, very entertaining. Just not perfect.

I REPEAT, SPOILERS AHEAD.

First, let’s chat briefly about what Marvel got right, because they, like they usually do, nail most of it.

  • Casting – Simu Liu as our hero Shang-Chi is a compelling lead, and while the depth of his acting may not reach Ben Kingsley’s Shakespearean level, Marvel films don’t really call for that. Awkwafina is great as the goofy comedic sidekick Katy. Meng’er Xiang is fierce and imposing as Shang-Chi’s sister Xialing, and every bit the fighter he is. Tony Leung is dispassionate father Xu Wenwu that boils with rage under the surface. Lots of great side characters too.
  • Action – lots of it.
  • Music – solid.
  • Comedy – plenty, from a number of places.
  • MCU tie-ins – Nobody does tie-ins to other films better than Marvel, and they drop a few doozies in there with the inclusion of Benedict Wong’s Wong (first seen in Dr. Strange), the Abomination from way back in the Incredible Hulk movie (with Edward Norton), the return of Ben Kingsley and the “fix” they did to his character Trevor Slattery from Iron-Man 3, and then the requisite post-credit scene featuring Wong, Bruce Banner, and Captain Marvel.

Now let’s talk character, because I think this had the opportunity to be one of the better character growth arcs we’ve seen in a Marvel movie.

Shang-Chi (as Shaun) is hanging out in San Francisco with Katy, enjoying life as a parking valet, but not really doing much with himself or caring to. We learn he’s been in hiding, avoiding his father Xu Wenwu, warlord of the Ten Rings criminal organization (first used with poorly-received audience misdirection in Iron-Man 3). Wenwu wants his son to return to the Ten Rings (and wants Shaun’s half of a jade pendant). Shaun doesn’t want that. So right there is our opening want/need, full of family history and drama. Great.

Our hero, now Shang-Chi, meets up with his sister Xialing after losing his necklace in the introductory fight with Wenwu’s goons. She’s pissed at him for running off and abandoning her after their mom died when they were younger, and they fight. Deeper family wounds, remorse for Shang-Chi. He has to come to terms with her, because she has the other half of the jade pendant, which when paired with his will provide their father with access to their deceased mother’s mythical home of Ta Lo. So they have to work together. All of this is great!

Naturally, they’re captured by Wenwu and brought back to the Ten Rings compound. And now our hero meets our villain. Again. For the first time (on screen).

The classic comic book villain The Mandarin! Wasn’t he in Iron-Man 3? No. No, he wasn’t.

Blessed with a thousand years of life by the ten rings, Xi Wenwu has led a vicious life as leader of the Ten Rings crime organization, up until the point when he (when trying to get into Ta Lo the first time) meets Shang-Chi’s eventual mother, guardian Ying Li. They fight, she kicks his butt, they fall in love. A bad guy is reformed into family man. The rings are set aside.

All is well until Wenwu’s former life catches up with him and Ying Li is murdered. Wenwu reverts. Shang-Chi (as a youngun) is caught up in the violence and eventually flees the Ten Rings syndicate rather than joining his father’s ways. Tragic villain, wounded past established. Marvel is checking all the boxes so far.

Let’s skip to the end. Marvel is setting us up for a son vs. father showdown, right? This is what our minds have been led to believe will be the final, ultimate confrontation.

And we get it. Shang-Chi heeds his mother’s lessons and becomes his own man, rather than the killer in his father’s footsteps. Father and son fight. Shang-Chi wins control of the rings as they battle and cows his father into submission. Power stripped, the villain is due to see the err of his ways, or meet a tragic comeuppance after reconciling as the Elixir payoff of Shang-Chi’s journey. And we get both of those.

But then, we get this…

Wha wha what? The Dweller-in-Darkness, a soul-sucking corrupted dragon thing. Ta Lo has been holding it behind a mystical dragonscale door to save the world from doom. It had been whispering (somehow) to Wenwu via Ying Li’s voice and convinced him she was still alive. So he came to let it out, mistakenly believing it was his wife. And just as Shang-Chi defeats Wenwu, the Dweller breaks free. It sucks out Wenwu’s soul, and now Shang-Chi has to clean up the mess.

Enter climax #2, and while it’s a rousing fight, it has absolutely nothing to do with Shang-Chi’s journey from wayward youth on the run from his criminal father into becoming his own man. The emotional connection for the audience falls flat, because subconsciously we know that everything our hero has been working for and toward for the past two hours doesn’t matter in the slightest because now he has to defeat some dimly-lit monstrosity he didn’t even know existed a day ago. Sure, he had to complete his character arc to win the ten rings in order to gain the power to defeat this new villain. But the Dweller wasn’t Shang-Chi’s antagonist in this movie, his father was.

All the way up to this, we are not educated as to why Wenwu must be kept out of Ta Lo, only that his pursuit of the mythical realm was folly and he would lead it to destruction. We are not told why during the build-up of the story, and only learn of the ultimate threat after Shang-Chi and crew make it to Ta Lo. Way too late to be introducing the audience to the ultimate villain of the story. It has no ties to Shang-Chi. It has no connection to Wenwu, other than using him to escape. It has nothing to do with the whole story until it gets out. Then we have to defeat it or the world is doomed. Just meh.

I don’t possess an ounce of comic book knowledge, so it’s entirely possible this storyline was pulled straight from the pages. Kinda feels like a few mashed together though, and here they threw one too many in right at the end.

When I watched this film in the theater for the first time last year, as Shang-Chi battled the Dweller, I thought to myself “this is totally unnecessary”. I was ready to anoint this movie as another masterful standard-bearer for Marvel, and instead the whole thing fell flat on its face on the dismount. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still one of the better Marvel films for all the great work they did leading up to the second half of the climax. But it’s not on the podium.

So how could Marvel have fixed this? I have three ideas:

  1. Connect Wenwu’s want (return of his wife) with the intentional release of the Dweller. In his ancient texts, Wenwu translates something that makes him believe the Dweller is in possession of Ying Li’s soul and freeing it will also free her. Shang-Chi learns of this midway through, remembers lessons from his mother regarding the Dweller (needs to be added), and suddenly stopping his father has overt save-the-world implications. When he can’t stop his father in time, his failure directly leads to the Dweller’s release, and now the need to defeat the Dweller to save the world is fully Shang-Chi’s to own to complete his growth into hero.
  2. Turn Wenwu into the Dweller. Shang-Chi wins the rings, but won’t kill his father because he still loves him, even if it is the right thing to do (will have to add the inevitable killing of his father mandatory in the growth phase of the arc, which they avoid here to keep Shang-Chi from becoming like his father). Still desperate, Wenwu makes a final deal with the devil and with some mystical MacGuffin (the audience needs to be made aware of this thing earlier on, even if Shang-Chi isn’t), joins forces with the Dweller, giving it corporal (and horrible) form. Shang-Chi is given the final kick in the tail he needs to defeat his father once and for all. Fight ensures. Rings are used with deadly intent against his monster-father and the arc is completed and world saved.
  3. Beef up the fight with Wenwu at the end, but leave it with the father’s defeat. All of the emotional angst and turmoil we’ve invested ourselves in will be satisfied, and the journey will be whole. Save the escape of the Dweller for the end credits scenes, and you’ve got an easy direct setup for Shang-Chi 2.

I think #1 is best, but would have made an already long movie even longer.

There you have it. Did you see Shang-Chi? What did you think? Do you agree with my assessment of the film’s unnecessary second climactic battle? Leave a comment!

The ultimate lesson here? Begin your heroes’ journeys with the end in mind! M