This article first appeared in the October 2012 edition of First Draft, the newsletter for the Guppy chapter of Sisters In Crime.

My grandson is a child of many words, most unintelligible, but I’m proud to report his first sentence was “I funny.” Not too long after that, he branched out to say, “You funny.”

Clearly, he enjoys humor and laughing. Not so unusual when you stop to consider that we all enjoy a good laugh. Humor makes us feel better and chases the blues away.

But we’re all different people with different senses of humor. What’s funny in Jersey may not be funny in New Orleans or San Francisco. Or is it?

How does anyone write funny and reach a vast audience?

Within my stomping grounds, I know exactly what funny is. Hearing someone mangle the pronunciation of a local place name, now that is funny, like when someone says dah-mear for what is clearly dem-ree, even though it is spelled Demere.

The cat brushing the dog back from his food bowl, that’s funny.

The matrons at church who sit down in a mushroom cloud of lavender-scented powder, that’s funny, if you aren’t in the fallout zone.

There are several lessons in these three examples. Outsiders are fair game and often a subject of ridicule for insiders. It’s easier to laugh at someone else’s misfortune. When a result is unexpected, it is often funny. Certain types of people react in predictable, often humorous, ways. People are entertained by pet antics.

If we all know what funny is, how do we insert humor into a story? After researching the subject, I’ve created a list to help you get started.

Ten tips on how to write funny

1. Regular writing rules apply to humor. Have a good structure, be aware of pacing, and build anticipation. Also, fine-tune word choices, vary sentence structures for maximum effect, and use the power of three in lists.

2. When creating a list of three in the situation setup, use alliteration to make it memorable: he looked downtrodden, dumpy, and dirty. When using a list of three to be funny, make the third item unrelated to the first: I need to buy flour, sugar, and dynamite.

3. Sensory details make the written word feel real. They allow the reader to discover the humor of a situation.

4. Start with a funny topic or situation. Spend time on the setup. Exaggerate, fabricate or misdirect before tossing in the punchline for comedic effect. Before the punchline, put the funniest word at the end of a paragraph. Blindside the reader with a comedic turn.

5. Here’s a fact I didn’t know when I researched humor online. “K” sounds and hard g’s are funny to our ears. Case in point: My toddler grandson thrashes and hollers “Stuck!”when he’s ready to get out of his highchair. Everytime, his exclamation brings a smile to our faces.

6. Humor is closely related to fear and despair. Laughter provides a release from anxiety, ratchets down the tension, and gives the reader a moment of respite.

7. Put a character in a fish-out-of-water setting to see his/her fears emerge. Add a twist that forces the character out of his/her comfort zone.

8. The best humor is always self-directed.Use character flaws and humanity to create humor.

9. When writing a mystery, keep in mind that solving the mystery is the driving force of the novel. Humor should be used sparingly in a mystery to make sure the comedy doesn’t derail the mystery.

10. Sarcasm is hard to pull off and better left alone.

Some examples from my books

When I sit down to write romance and mystery, my goal is to weave lighthearted family antics into the darker tales to balance the light and the dark. I use observations of real life to add comedic flavor in my books.

In the first book of my Cleopatra Jones cozy series, In For a Penny, Cleo’s mom cooks up wacky creations like spickle fish lasagna, a combination of spinahc, pickles, tuna fish, tomato sauce, and noodles. Mama claims to need to express her creativity while cooking, but her menu choices are bizarre and funny – if you don’t have to eat them. However, Mama chose to exercise her creativity on a night friends from out of town visit due to a death in the family. One of the teenaged boys eats a big bite, pronounces it wonderful, then he gets the last laugh as the others gag on spickle fish lasagna.

The dog in the story, Madonna, is heartbroken due to her owner’s death, and she enters into a power struggle with Cleo over where she will sleep. Since possession is the name of the game, the dog hops in Cleo’s bed every chance she gets.

In book two of the series, On The Nickel, one of the first scenes shows Cleo and her best pal hiding in the bushes behind the church spying on the police investigation of a hit and run fatality. They’ve already been told by the cops to steer clear of the area. As they’re jostling for position, Cleo falls through the bushes, right into trouble.

Also in that book, Cleo’s youngest teen extensively prepares for the arrival of Madonna’s puppies. But at the critical time, Cleo and her best friend are summoned out of town. Cleo’s new boyfriend is tasked to deliver the puppies, while the women-folk go bail out her pal’s boyfriend who decided to “streak” at the shore to prove he’s not dull.

Death, Island Style uses situational comedy. Craft store owner Mary Beth gets glue globs stuck in her hair from a children’s craft class gone awry. A neighboring shopkeeper takes her next door to the pharmacist to dissolve the glue. He takes one look and cuts the chunks out, leaving glob-sized holes in her hair.

Mary Beth also gets into trouble collecting seashells. She didn’t realize hermit crabs live in conch shells, and when she left some conchs overnight in her shop, the next morning the place reeks of death. Sure that she’d come across another dead body, she calls the intrepid pharmacist, who treats the venture like a SEAL team extraction.

Murder in the Buff relies on social awkwardness, misdirection, and an early birds-and-the-bees talk with a youngster. To start with, my sleuth, Molly, is newly separated from her husband, and her newspaper boss sends her to the nudist colony to pick up an obituary. She doesn’t want anything to do with naked people, and her means of coping with the awkward situation is that she can do anything for a minute.

Molly’s emotions are raw from her husband’s infidelity, so a few scenes later, she rams his pickup truck. She isn’t hurt in the slow speed crash, though his truck is toast. Her young son tries to figure out what adultery is, and the words he choses are from his experiences with their randy retriever, leaving Molly tongue-tied and her husband miffed.

Humor can be found in all walks of life, but to weave it into your prose requires good editing skills. Take the time to get it right and receive the best payoff – happy and devoted fans.

This article first appeared in the October 2004 Update, newsletter of the Washington Romance Writers.

Tired of being invisible? Here’s a practical solution. Write an article for your chapter newsletter. After you finish reading this, you’ll want to get started right away. Here’s why:

Writing Sharpens Your Skills. Crafting articles about the writing profession forces you to focus on your subject material. It helps define and perfect your strategy for the art of story crafting. Every time you sit down to write, you flex creative muscle. Just as athletes practice to improve their skills, writers must write to reach and maintain peak performance levels. Empowered writing increases reader interest and improves the likelihood of publication.

Shared Experiences Bring Fellowship. Through sharing your writing journey with others, you lessen the sense of isolation within this solo profession and build camaraderie. Like a candle shining in the darkness, an article can bring inspiration and hope to those who struggle with similar issues. Fellow authors hunger for details from those overcoming hurdles, those just published, those building a name for themselves, and especially from those at the top of the heap.

Articles Cure What Ails You. It’s admirable to write about things you do well. But, if you go one step farther and write about subjects that give you fits, you might come up with solutions to formerly insurmountable obstacles. Writing about your weaknesses helps you focus on what needs to be changed in your writing and is instrumental in devising solutions. Got a problem with integrating setting into the flow of your story? Research the problem, write about it, and before you know it, you’ll be following your own advice.

Publication Reinforces the Dream. Writing is what we do. It is an affirmative response to our unrelenting urge to tell stories. Newsletter publication won’t suddenly transform you into a literary guru, but it does build confidence that you can do this. Your article can be the first step to opening many doors in the publishing business. Best of all, your published article is a valuable highlight on your writing bio.

Articles Build Name Recognition. Let’s face facts. Name recognition drives book sales. Your newsletter article will be in front of your chapter members, available to internet surfers who visit the chapter website, and available to every RWA newsletter editor through posting on an editor email link. These editors may choose to reprint your article or forward it to a chapter email loop. One article may seem like a small stone in a big pond, but the ripples that occur can be far reaching.

Editors Need Submissions. There is a high demand for chapter member articles. Chapter newsletter editors want to feature and promote their members. Each newsletter issue brings with it the demand for new material. The good news is that the incidence of rejection of newsletter articles is relatively low. Send that article in and chances are, you’ll have a publication pending. Newsletter editors need article writers.

The Sky Is The Limit. A brief bio runs with each newsletter article. Included in this bio are titles of your upcoming or recent books, contest wins, or website contact information. You might also consider becoming a regular columnist. Several columnists from different chapters have developed niche columns (on market news, research, contest opportunities, etc.) that are in such high demand that they are published simultaneously in multiple newsletters every month. Believe me, these folks are very visible.

There you have it. Seven compelling reasons to craft that article you’ve been thinking about. Writing newsletter articles builds self-confidence and raises skill level. It gives you immediate visibility. Get your name out there and see if your fiction doesn’t start attracting more attention.

This article first appeared in the March 2013 issue of the First Draft, newsletter of the Guppy chapter of Sisters In Crime

Let’s face it. Inertia happens to all of us. We may have a surefire plan to reach our goal, but life has a way of throwing us curveballs, making it a struggle to continue. The best laid plans are worth nothing if we don’t take time to implement them.

With regard to writing, plans can go awry in any phase of drafting, editing, marketing to a publishing professional, or marketing to readers. Once authors lose momentum, it’s hard to get going again.

Maybe, like me, you juggle a job and family in addition to writing-related pursuits. Or maybe you invent reasons not to move forward, paralyzed by fears of success and failure.

Either way, the work isn’t getting done.

Instead of making excuses, let’s beat inertia this year. Here are seven tips to get us started.

1. Vent. While making a fuss about lack of progress feels good, it is a poor substitute for the satisfaction of reaching a goal. Vent if need be, but set a reasonable time limit (a phone call, an hour, a day), and then give yourself permission to move on.

2. Windows and doors. These open and close at will. They are often out of our control. Perseverance is the key. Instead of stalling when an opportunity passes us by, look for another opportunity. They’re out there, but we have to seek them out.

3. Rejection. Writers need a thick skin. Critique partners can be cruel. Editors can rip into our work. Professional reviewers can trash our prose. Or readers who note a single typo can give us a brutal one-star review.

It’s hard not to take rejection of our work personally, but remember this. Writers produce a tangible work product. Criticism is opinion driven; it’s subjective. Avoid inertia by setting new objectives. Put the criticism in perspective, learn from it, and move on.

4. Positivity. Remember the movie Pollyanna? It was about an upbeat child who spread sunshine. If we think about what we can do, instead of what we can’t do, we move toward our goals.

To rephrase, “I can’t…” leads to inertia; “I can…” leads to achievement. Break tasks into smaller steps that you can accomplish. Beat inertia by saying “I can.”

5. Creativity. Creativity rarely happens in a vacuum. Conditions and circumstances lead to inspiration, which is creativity’s fuel. Take note of your unique wellspring of creativity.

Strive to create the right mindset by being in the midst of whatever inspires you, whether it’s great literature, rock music, people watching, solitude, nature, education, or more.

Come to writing refreshed, and creativity will follow. Say bye-bye to inertia because words and ideas will abound.

6. Focus. Inertia can also happen because you have too many ideas. Like a kid in a candy store, you’re stuck because everything looks wonderful. The idea cup literally runneth over.

Hone your focus to beat this kind of inertia. Come to your writing time with one project on your mind. Save or jot down the other ideas for later. Commit to that one story until you’re done with it.

Or, if you prefer to work on multiple stories concurrently, my advice is still the same. One block of writing time for one story. The next block of writing time can be for your other story, if need be, but set a distinction in your mind.

Move from inertia by allowing yourself time to flesh out one story at a time.

7. CPR. Everything is going great guns, and then the flash-bang stops. The characters or plot no longer excites you. In fact, you’d rather iron everything in your closet instead of looking at that story again.

You need story CPR.

To resuscitate your story, apply literary cardio-pulmonary resuscitation. Massage your work-in-progress’s heart and breathe life into your words. Somewhere in the writing process, you lost the joy of discovery, you lost that conduit to the story ether.
Remember what first sparked your interest about this idea, characters or plot and seek to inject that in your prose. Discover at what point you stopped liking the story. Cut (and save elsewhere) everything after that point and rewrite in a new direction. Trust your inner ear to guide you.

Inertia wears us down. It makes us emotional and frustrated with who and what we want to be. But inertia isn’t terminal unless we allow it. Keep the ultimate goal in mind and navigate through all the wrong turns and dead ends in the maze of writing with aplomb.

Let this year be the year everyone breaks free from inertia.

This article first appeared in the March 2004 Update, newsletter of the Washington Romance Writers.

My wolf of self-doubt is back. I can feel him prowling around the edges of my mind. Every now and again he darts out and gnaws on my confidence. His sharp teeth make quick work of the thin skin covering my vulnerabilities.
He howls gleefully when those SASEs in my handwriting come in the return mail. Like a silvery shadow, he ebbs in and out of my consciousness, striking when I am weak.

My wolf of self-doubt is at his most bold when I am between projects. His snickering voice tells me that there couldn’t possibly be a marketable story in this disorganized chaos I call a brain. He sniffs disdainfully at the lists I make, the things I want to write about.

He bounds across the snowy white computer screen, the one that is barren except for the mocking slash of the blinking cursor. In my midnight hour, I take a stand against my self-doubt. I reach deep inside and believe that the next story will come.

Just as characters have arcs, so do writers. It isn’t easy to change and grow; it takes a giant leap of faith to abandon the safe world of your last story and people another universe with new characters. Here’s how I face this challenge.

I cast out my wolf of self-doubt with determination. I scan headlines and watch movies and listen to conversations everywhere I go, absorbing, assimilating, what-iffing. With each new idea, creativity sparkles and story possibilities glimmer. I boost my imagination by exploring other artistic pursuits: music, arts and crafts, sewing, gardening. I recharge until I reach a critical juncture, one in which ideas saturate my thoughts.

This primordial stew is flavored with my past experiences, my unconscious themes, and my level of expertise at crafting stories. In the steamy mist of prewriting, I envision a spunky heroine, a capable but flawed alpha hero, and an emotional conflict that puts this man and this woman on a collision course. From this simmering broth comes a series of character-driven events that propel these people towards a problem they can’t overcome without character growth.

The words come in dribbles, then in torrents. Paragraphs become pages, pages become scenes, scenes connect to form chapters. Turning points, obstacles, choices, crises, commitments, black moments, and triumphant happy endings – these necessary ingredients lend form and substance to this new world.

When the story flows, I don’t sense my wolf at all. He can’t tolerate the bright campfire of a fresh plot and three dimensional characters. There is no room in my head for failure when words blaze across my computer screen.
Why can’t I banish my wolf of self-doubt forever? Because doubting is as much a part of my writing process as the flash and burn. Without extending myself past my comfort zone, I wouldn’t continue to grow as a writer.

Maybe your wolf goes by another name, but he’s there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for your personal dark moment. You want to beat your wolf of self-doubt? Stare him dead in the eye and banish him with the most powerful affirmation in your vocabulary: I am a writer. Now, get to work!

This article first appeared in the February 2005 issue of Update, the newsletter of Washington Romance Writers.

Better one or better two? Anyone who has ever had vision correction will recognize the previous sentence. During an eye exam, small lenses of differing strengths are placed in your field of vision until the image on the far wall comes into focus. Through a process of elimination, the correct lens is chosen. The perfect lens results in a crisp, clear image.

The perfect lens results in a crisp, clear image. The more I thought about that profound statement, the more I realized that it was something that could apply to my writing.

Donald Mass, Debra Dixon, Alicia Rasley, and many more fiction writing experts agree that conflict is an essential element of crafting a quality story. Maximizing conflict maintains high reader interest in your story. I had read these words of wisdom in multiple places and thought I had a handle on conflict.

In my infinite wisdom, I treated conflict as another item on my check list. Setting? Yeah, I got that. Characters? Yeah. Got them. Conflict? Yeah. That’s in there.

It wasn’t until I started dissecting stories by published authors that I realized how restricted my conflict vision was. Just having conflict in my story wasn’t enough. Conflict is too big to be relegated to a checklist. It has to be integrated into the very seams of the story. Two dogs and one bone. That’s conflict. Make it matter. That’s conflict. Make it emotional. That’s conflict.

I crafted more elaborately detailed plots, invented characters with multiple flaws, and beefed up my settings. I cut pictures of my characters from catalogs and drew up story boards with multi-colored tiered charts and created electronic filing systems for quick recall. But my rejection letters still featured the same tag line: “I wasn’t captivated by the story.”

Argh. Nothing worse than an editor thinking your story isn’t captivating.

So, back to the drawing board. How to bring conflict into the crispest focus possible? For any given scene, what is the most compelling way of presenting the conflict. For this to happen, I had to be open to new possibilities, to new ways of story elements fitting together.

The best way to illustrate this new mindset is to use an example. Let’s assume we are writing a scene about a woman needing to get her driver’s license renewed. This is a conflict inherent process involving multiple long lines and a shortage of clerks. It can easily take three hours to navigate through the bureaucratic process. Now imagine that our character doesn’t have three hours to spare because she has to pick her handicapped child up at school. The process will, of course, take three hours. That feels like conflict.

But is it enough? Is it captivating? Probably not. Let’s sharpen the focus. If the clerk who finally waits on her is someone our heroine doesn’t want to deal with, that brings in a deeper emotional element to the conflict. If we show that the handicapped child needs a med change and that it’s critical the mother gets the child to the doctor’s appointment on time, then that adds tension to the conflict. If the woman’s son’s missing gerbil has been sleeping in her purse but jumps out when she goes to pay and the clerk is experiencing a rodent infestation at home, that’s using the setting to increase the conflict.Adding additional story layers to the conflict sharpens the focus and makes the reader care. Next time you create a scene, ask yourself if the conflict is as strong as you can make it. If not, why not try the “better one, better two” process? Add power and depth to your writing and you’ll ensure that your readers are captivated. Use the perfect lens and you’ll see the difference in your writing.

This article first appeared in the December 2003 issue of Update, the newsletter of Washington Romance Writers.

Do you ever feel like you’re drowning in the slush pile? Do you wish you knew the magic answer that would ensure publication? Many of us believe we’re close to achieving publication. We’ve earned our RWA Pro-pins, we’re doing well in contests, we’re volunteering at local and national romance chapters, so why are we still in the slush pile? What is holding us back?

Here’s my simplistic take on the situation: we’ve got to have a great story and we’ve got to be in the right place at the right time. I can’t help you with the timing of your submission, but maybe a few tips from my kitchen may give you that missing something that editors and readers want.

Cooking Tip # 1: Chicken Soup. I’ve been cooking for years, but it wasn’t until a friend made me some of her chicken soup that I learned a valuable lesson. My chicken soup is adequate, but hers, well my mouth is watering just thinking about it. There was a certain fullness to the taste and a body to her broth that lingered in my mouth long after the soup was gone. When asked about the secret of her soup, my friend said there was nothing secret about it. The only difference between my recipe and hers was that she started with chicken stock instead of water.

That got me to thinking. Starting with prepared stock enhanced the entire texture of chicken soup. It was thicker, richer, fuller in a way I’d never experienced in my own cooking. A parallel in writing immediately occurred to me. Start with stock characters and then add your own ingredients.

Using a stock character gives you an immediate base to build on, it gives you a set of easily identifiable reactions that jump-start your writing onto a whole new plane. Don’t make your writing clichéd, but freshen something familiar with what you do best. Haven’t you seen reviews or book blurbs that say: Cinderella with a fresh twist or Beauty and the Beast as you’ve never seen it. Fairy tale themes have a familiar resonance. What woman wouldn’t want to find true love and have her whole life come together? Make your story one that will be remembered long after it’s read. Find the magical “stock” that breathes fresh life into that shelf of rejections.

Cooking Tip # 2: Breakfast Casserole. Have you ever been to one of those brunches or church socials where several women made the same recipe for “Breakfast Casserole” and all of the cooked dishes looked similar? Then when you tried them they all tasted different? The analyst in me couldn’t get over how different and yet the same they were. The key to the differences was unique to each cook. One lady always used butter even if a recipe called for margarine, another used sharp cheese instead of mild. You get the general idea. Different but yet the same.

Writing for category romance can be likened to those breakfast casseroles. Each category has a certain set of ingredients it looks for, things that the loyal reader recognizes and wants to read. The editors are looking for something familiar and yet different. They want to see tried and true plot devices because they know their market. Our challenge is to find the combination of familiar ingredients that makes our stories uniquely marketable. I have a whole shelf of Silhouette Romances and from the big print on back covers it is easy to see what types of stories they want. Babies sell. Cowboys sell. Secrets sell. Marriage of conveniences sell. Do the research to find out what sells in your target market, and then write the best book you can. One that’s uniquely your own take on a familiar recipe.

Cooking Tip #3: Chocolate Chip Cookies. Everybody knows the difference in a store-bought cookie and one that’s just out of the oven. It’s like night and day, isn’t it? I was sure my homemade cookies were The Best because they were better than store-bought. I believed this until I tasted someone else’s homemade chocolate chip cookies. The combination of taste, texture, and aroma of her magnificent cookies was in a whole different league than my cookies. Even though I knew her cookies had to be loaded with calories and fat and everything that wasn’t good for me, I couldn’t keep myself from reaching for more. Hmm.

The master cookie chef reluctantly loaned me her secret. I was appalled by how simple it was. She baked cookies every chance she got so that she knew the exact proportion of ingredients and cooking conditions required to yield the cookie of her dreams. The lesson I learned from this is that she worked hard at her craft until it was the very best she could make it. Then she kept at it to keep her quality at a very high level.

This was starting to sound like writing again. With the wisdom of hindsight, I see that my first writing efforts, the masterpieces that were surely breakout novels, were a lot like the misshapen slightly burnt cookies of an amateur baker. In order to turn out the lightly browned, chewy but crisp delicacies that taste divine (or the manuscript that makes you a household name), you have to go beyond adequate. Just because your story is better than the worst book you ever read doesn’t mean your story is ready for the big time. If you work diligently at what you do, your craftsmanship will improve. You’re not competing with the worst that’s on the market. You’re competing with the very best romance has to offer.

So there you have it. Three simple lessons from the kitchen. Start with familiar or stock ingredients to give your story more body. Flavor your story with the seasoning that is uniquely yours. And hone your writing ability through practice to keep readers reaching for more. Piece of cake.

This article first appeared in vol.1 of The Baker Street Clarion, October 2008.

Growing up, I knew first hand what it was like to be paralyzed with fear. When the door blew open for no reason, I screamed my head off and not even a whisper of sound crossed my lips.

I was the kid who shied away from shadows, the kid who avoided cracks in the sidewalk, the kid who leapt over the hall floor furnace because a monster lived down there. Needless to say, the superstitions and legends in our small fishing village played havoc with my overactive imagination.

As a teen, I avoided scary movies, roller coasters, and The Twilight Zone television program. They were outright unnerving to me. Though I shied away from Big Scary Things, I turned to books for solace. My favorites were romantic suspense books. Back then, Victoria Holt and Mary Stewart were all the rage. From these authors and more, I learned more about the cycle of fear. I saw fear being elicited by a discreet stimulus, fear helping the heroine to thwart danger, and mastered fear leading to the reward of happiness.

Fast forward a few more years to when I began to write books. The wisdom within the publishing realm said to write what you know. Romantic suspense books appealed to me because the combination of danger and romance spoke to me on many levels.

We have all experienced that unsettling moment when we realized someone was watching us. That prickling sensation on the small hairs of our neck, that slide of cool air against our clammy skin. If it’s the person across the room you want to notice you, this alert system brings pleasure. But if it’s a stranger watching you from a hidden vantage point, your body responds instinctively to the threat.

Your heart rate speeds up. You breathe faster. Your muscles tense. Your body automatically prepares for flight or fight. This response is hardwired from mankind’s earliest days. The people who responded to threats by running or fighting victoriously survived and became our ancestors. Through natural selection, humans became efficient fear machines.

I’ve been married to a great guy for a long while now, but there are times when he unexpectedly appears behind me. My startled scream of terror has both of us clutching our hearts. I’ve learned to be more cognizant of my surroundings, he’s learned not to sneak up on me.

Being in touch with my own fears, I had no trouble foisting them off on fictional characters.

Hope in House of Lies battles abandonment and isolation, beating them to face the gut-wrenching terror of a deranged assassin. When a car tries to force her off the road, her fight or flight instinct saves her life. She reaches deep, conquering her fears to stand up and fight for what is hers. She earns her reward of happiness.

In No Second Chance, Hannah starts out paralyzed by fear of failure. But her love for horses empowers her to face her fear, to triumph in the face of overwhelming adversity. The villain of this story wants to take everything from Hannah. In this high stakes game of life and death, fear keeps Hannah on her toes, making her happily-ever-after all the sweeter.

Recognition of danger starts a chain reaction within our body, dumping a cocktail of thirty different hormones into our bloodstream, priming us for fight or flight. This volatile mix of chemicals creates excitement and even arousal in some people. Romantic suspense books keep readers turning the pages to find out what happens next. This genre melds a love story and a danger story into a satisfying read.

This article first appeared in the April 2008 issue of the Scarlet Letter, the newsletter of Southeast Mystery Writers of America

Selecting the most cost effective avenues for marketing is tough. The array of choices is dazzling. So, how do we get the word out about our books? How do we hack through the marketing jungle to find daylight? Let’s review some marketing choices.

Print ads. The most successful book ads target your market and exploit marketing hooks. Are you selling to librarians, mystery readers, thriller convention-goers, or the beach-read crowd? Select your ad placement based on the widest possible target audience.

Promotional items. Many authors buy pens, pads, bookmarks, postcards, etc. with their name or website imprinted on them. For maximum effectiveness, these need to have value to a reader.

Multi-media campaigns. Many authors are interviewed on radio or television in conjunction with an event or book release. Consider speaking engagements and public appearances to broaden your reader base.

Press releases. Send these out to every relevant magazine and newspaper. Mine the marketing hooks in your book. A book with a boating crime scene might suit a nautical publication or a marina newsletter.

Online promotions. Yahoo and Google have reader and special interest groups. Virtual book tours involve blogging at various sites. What about a podcast or a book trailer? With these tools, your promotion material will be available on the web indefinitely. Online social networks like MySpace and Shelfari allow you to mass mail bulletins about your new release or event to “friends” in moments.

Book giveaways. This sounds counterproductive when we’re after sales, but this strategy drives readers to your website and promotes interest in your backlist. Give books away at charity events, conferences, or other relevant reader hang-outs.

Sales are the best indicators of marketing effectiveness, but unless you track sales in real time, discerning marketing effectiveness may not be possible. However, increased website traffic can monitor interest. Many web hosts track site visitors linearly through time, allowing you to link marketing strategies to website hits. The tracking indicates IP addresses of where site visitors linked to you from.

One of the first thoughts I had as a published author was that I could never get a handle on all of this. Doing a little bit at a time worked for me, and I didn’t do everything for every book. The key is doing what you enjoy within your time and money constraints.

This article first appeared in the March 2006 issue of Update, the newsletter of Washington Romance Writers.

The big day finally arrives. You type “The End” on your work-in-progress. Take the time to celebrate that success. Many people talk about writing a book, but few persevere. So, go ahead and enjoy that feeling of accomplishment.
Then roll up your sleeves because it’s time to get back to work. Writing that first draft is only the beginning of having a publishable manuscript. To polish your piece you must look at your work objectively. This may sound daunting for a 100,000 word book but breaking the analysis into smaller sections works well.

1. Story movement. Whether you review one chapter or multiple chapters at a time, the first element to check for is story movement. In romance novels, both the hero and the heroine need to have goals, motivation, and conflict, and these should be internal and external. Make sure the characters change and grow as a result of the plot events. Fine-tune the pacing and heighten the tension.

2. Story logic. After you smooth out movement inconsistencies, examine your story logic within each scene. Verify that the events you’ve written about make sense. Can your hero really catch a galloping horse when he’s on foot? Did the objects in the scene stay put or move about as you wanted them to? Is your heroine furious about being slighted or is she merely irritated?

3. Setting. A mistake many beginning writers make is in impersonally describing the setting. Instead, have your POV character react to the setting. Let the wind blow through her hair and the giant raindrops pelt against her skin. Write your setting as a sensory experience and you will hook your reader.

4. Narrative. Writers want to tell all, to let readers see how intimately we know our characters. But narrative can be overdone. Take a harsh look at your narrative passages. Is there anything that can be moved into dialogue and action? Can your narrative sections be condensed? Make it so. Study published books in your target market. If the balance of narrative-to-dialogue in your book isn’t the same, make those adjustments.

5. Dialogue. Your dialogue should reflect the essence of your characters. It should flow naturally without sounding stilted. A good way to check for this is to highlight the dialogue and only read the highlighted text out loud. To ensure you have a distinct voice for each character, you may choose to read one character’s dialogue at a time. Use dialect sparingly.

6. Showing. How many times have you heard “show don’t tell?” Incorporate sensory responses to the setting and emotional responses to events in an action-reaction pattern, and you won’t hear that criticism again.

7. Wordsmithing. Lastly, word choice matters. Get rid of filler words like felt, seemed, just, and really. Cull overused –ly words. Use the “Find” feature of your word processing software to locate the useless words and eliminate them. Incorporate action verbs for weaker verbs. Every “was” that you can change into an active verb will add to the immediacy of your story. Check for overused character tags. If you have the hero’s eyebrows waggling on pages 1,3 and 5, we’re going to think he’s Groucho Marx. Vary what you say and how you say it.

If you polish your work, it will sparkle with freshness and originality. Your voice will ring true in that elusive editorial ear. Take the time to improve that first draft. It will be time well spent.