RWA: The Batty Report

Fall is RWA membership renewal time, which usually brings about at least a post or two from people pondering their memberships. Kassia Krozser wrote a thoughtful, insightful post on this topic on RTB:

Paying dues to RWA will not teach me to write better dialogue or craft better conflict or to even draft a catchy synopsis — though I will acknowledge that the foundations for success in these areas can be provided by the organization. I am at that point where I just need to keep on doing what I do best while getting better and better at it. I need to continue to believe that my vision is right.

This is exactly right, and well-thought out. But let me digress for a moment and talk about the petty, stupid things in RWA that make me batty.

First, a disclaimer: I'll renew, and I have no plans to do otherwise. My local chapter is the best thing that ever happened to me as a writer, and I'd pay triple the dues to stay a member. But National? Ah, National.

Sure, there are nearly ten thousand members of National and there's no way to please them all. But if I could make some changes, well -

Things in RWA That Make Me Batty

1. Email clutter. Good lord - this is far and away number one. If you're not familiar with the pain, it goes like this: Someone in a Yahoo group posts about how their boring book is out or they placed 87th in some contest, which goes to your email. Then 40 more people post with sentiments like "WTG!" and "That's great!" and "So happy for you!" which also go to your email. You now have 41 messages in your inbox that you do not care about. If there are several announcements per group in a day, and you are on several groups, do the math.

The moderator (I don't know where they find these people - you couldn't pay me enough) steps in once in a while and asks people to stop this, at which point - I'm not kidding - people argue. Apparently, for some, a 300-email day is not a cause for hopeless weeping. And yes, I've switched to digest mode, but the migraine still looms. All I know is, some people have a lot of time on their hands.

2. Bad workshops. Perhaps there are really brilliant ones out there, but I haven't come across any. The main problem here is that RWA does not vet anyone who comes up with a workshop idea for any kind of qualification. "Semi-colons," one unpublished instructor imperiously informed us, "are not used in genre fiction." Is this the kind of learning that can help a beginner?

3. Obsession with rules. Who qualifies for PAN? Who qualifies for PRO? Did they change it without telling us? Who said so? Can we vote? Is it fair? Who's on the publisher list and why? Did they change the Golden Heart categories? Who can enter what? Is that fair? Who do we ask? How do we change it? Where do I qualify and why? Why did she get a pin and not me? Who gets to be on a nebulous list for an agent appointment next July? Can we vote? Does anyone care? Are you still awake?

4. A meaningless annual contest. The Golden Heart (the contest for unpublished writers) and the RITA (the contest for published writers) stir up more conversation than any other single topic in a year. I cannot for the life of me understand why. It is a purely subjective contest, in which writers assign a one-digit value to the work of several other writers, based on - again - no qualifying criteria whatsoever. First - for the GH, anyway - you should have to win at least one other contest in the year to even qualify to enter. Second, you should win money. Third, if the numbers of qualified entries are narrowed down, then the number of required judges will be fewer - and the contest can be more selective, which means Fourth, you have to apply to be a judge. As it sits now, if the "no semi-colons in genre fiction" lady volunteers, she is sinking five entries a year with a single digit.

These are small things, really. The magazine they send out is half-decent and I hear the conference is good. The specialty chapters get good reviews. So yes, overall it's worth the whatever-the-amount-is I have to send in.

As long as they lay off my inbox.

3:10 to Yuma

Saw 3:10 to Yuma last night:




If you haven't seen it, I highly, highly recommend it.

What is it about great Westerns that is so compelling? What makes the stories so gripping? I think it's because the world is so stark and stripped-down - there is no high-tech gadgetry, no frilliness, no frippery, no elaborate social structures or political games. Westerns are all about characters trying to survive, and making choices one after another.

In movieland's Wild West, power is held by the person who is willing to take it from others at any cost - the one to shoot first, without hesitating, is the one who wins. Where does that leave the truly moral man? It's the question almost every Western asks, and the answer is not always the same.

3:10 to Yuma has a perfect mix of Wild-West action and truly layered characterization. Not one psychological moment is lost, and the interaction between the personalities (especially the brilliant leads) is as riveting as the suspense and the violence. Christian Bale's desperate, upright rancher and Russell Crowe's blue-eyed, silver-tongued killer are slowly revealed, scene by scene, as complex personalities - especially Bale's, which is a more subtle character and harder to understand.

Plot is character, and character is plot. Great storytelling.

On a more shallow note, check out Russell Crowe:




The man looks good in a cowboy hat. This movie is a Crowe-lover's (that's me) dream, one of the few roles big enough for his personality. He's got so much charisma in this movie he sort of takes your breath away. And that dark jacket they gave him fit him just perfectly. And those eyes...

OK, ignore my drooling and go back up and read the intellectual stuff.

Better yet, go see the movie.

Advice Aspiring Writers Insist on Ignoring

It doesn't matter who says it, or how many times - there are certain pieces of advice we aspiring writers doggedly ignore, with the kind of bullheaded childishness reminiscent of putting one's hands over one's ears and saying "LALALALA."

To wit:

1. "Getting published does not solve your problems - it creates new ones."

2. "Getting an agent does not solve your problems either."

3. "You should really wait and properly polish your work before you start sending it out."

4. "Read your work aloud to yourself." (Does anyone do this??)

5. "Stop obsessing about form rejection letters because they don't matter."

6. "Stop obsessing about agents, period, because you have no control over how someone will react to your work."

7. "It's hard to be a full-time writer with deadlines." (We actually scoff at this one - sorry.)

8. "Put the writing first." (Okay, we follow this one sometimes. We just forget it a lot.)

9. "Getting published does not solve your problems - it creates new ones." (I already said this, but we hear it so often and we so DON'T listen that it bears repeating.)

10. "The writers who make enough money to live on are in the minority."

10a. "Don't quit your day job."

11. "When it comes to contests/critiques, take what you need and forget about the rest."

12. "Not many people get an agent from a conference meeting or a contest final." (I get this one, but some people are insane about conferences and contests.)

13. "You can start thinking about marketing and name recognition and all that, but you really should just focus on writing a really good book."

The people who offer this advice are very, very generous, and they are right. Most of us, however, refuse to listen; I'm not sure why. We're doing ourselves a disservice, I think, by deluding ourselves.

But if the messages sunk in, wouldn't we all quit? Is delusion the only thing that keeps us going? Actually - now that I think about it - isn't delusion a prerequisite for being a writer anyway?

Shouldn't You Be Writing?

From Romancing the Blog:

There are numerous other reasons why authors (should and) shouldn't blog. Like, they should be writing books!

And

I can think of lots of reasons why an author shouldn't blog [...] They should be writing!

Hmm. Really? What are you doing on the internet? Shouldn't you be cooking dinner? Or reading to your kids? Or cleaning your house? Isn't that a pile of dishes in the sink behind you?

Writers write; then they don't. They do other things, occasionally.

The rest of the discussion, though, was interesting, as several people frankly admitted to a plan to quit blogging. You don't see this very often. Most suffering bloggers put a strained face on it and pretend they're having fun - lie back and think of England, as it were. Every blogger thinks about quitting at one point or another, usually when they are dry of things to say.

Me, I just disappear for two weeks. It's summer - hardly anyone is reading, anyway.

I can't use writing as an excuse, because I haven't been doing that, either. I don't know what came over me - post-first draft hangover? Laziness? Sick of the thing? Or was it simple fear?

For some writers, the fear rears its ugly head during the writing: the fear of putting anything on paper, the fear of finishing. Personally I get the willies at the submission stage. The writing is great fun; picturing some New York agent laughing at you is not for the faint of heart, and you have to take a few deep breaths before you jump in.

Still, what are you gonna do? Put it in a drawer and forget about it?

So yesterday, as if I really were going back to school, I got my butt in gear. I'm going to polish this thing - again - and start sending it out. I'm not getting any younger, after all. And in the meantime:




I'm still not convinced that blogging is a waste of time.