Writing for a Living: Queries & Summaries

1. Class Overview: Hello, I'm Stefan Patricia, adjunct professor at the University of Massachusetts, and author of over 20 novels and hundreds of graphic novels. Welcome to writing for a living, creating summaries and queries, electrode series devoted to how to condense your writing in a compelling manner for the purpose of making a sale. These 13 simple and entertaining video lectures for beginners and old hands alike, take you step-by-step through the key parts of any content, fiction or nonfiction, and how to condense them in an engaging fashion for an effective pitch. By the end, you'll know exactly how a good query works and how to write your own. I begin with a look at story and its components. Character, conflict, complications, enclosure, along with a brief discussion on reader expectations based on genre. Flexure is six to seven get into the specifics of creating summaries. While lectures eight through 11 cover how to incorporate that summary into the basic unit of pitching the query. Broken down into content, marketing, bio, and etiquette. After reviewing a sample query in lecture 12, I end with a lecture on the biggest scourged or riding that I know of redundancy over the years, I've heard many professional authors express extreme irritation with how so many people out there think that just anyone can sit down and write a story. But too bad for them because the fact is yes, anyone can sit down and write a story. You don't even have to sit down. Humans are natural storytellers. It's what we do. It's how we think most of us are pretty good at it. Some of us have a neck. And to be clear, telling a story and getting someone to pay to hear that story are very different. Things. Not better, not worse, just different. Likewise, given all the bad writing out there that earns money, I wouldn't even go so far to say that professional writers are held to a better standard, but they're definitely held to a different standard. So in conclusion, while not absolute in any sense, the basic rules give us several useful things. And easy way to think of stories. A handy way to build a story from scratch, and a way to decide what to include when crafting a summary or query to see how it all works, check out the class. Hope to see you there. 2. Lecture 1: Intro and Story Basics: Hello, I'm Stefan Patricia, adjunct professor at the University of Massachusetts, and author of over 20 novels and hundreds of graphic novels. Welcome to writing for a living, creating summaries and queries, electrode series devoted to how to condense your writing in a compelling manner for the purpose of making a sale. Everyone has an intuitive understanding of what a story is. But if you have to present the heart or just of that story in a short space, it becomes useful to consider a more mechanical definition, which I'll present shortly in this introduction from their lectures two to five, home in on each of the four basic story parts, character, conflict, complications, and closure. Along with a brief discussion on reader expectations based on genre. Lecture six to seven get into the specifics of creating summaries. While lectures eight through 11 cover how to incorporate that summary into the basic unit of pitching the query. Broken down into content, marketing, bio, and etiquette. After reviewing a sample query in lecture 12, I end with a lecture on the biggest scourged or riding that I know of redundancy. Before answering the basic question, what is the story? I want to stress two things. The first is not only the importance of storytelling in our daily lives, but it's utter universality. If you're a human being, you just can't get away from it. Over the years, I've heard many professional authors express extreme irritation with how so many people out there think that just anyone can sit down and write a story. But too bad for them because the fact is yes, anyone can sit down and write a story. You don't even have to sit down. Humans are natural storytellers. It's what we do. It's how we think. Whenever we talk about our goals, our friends or lovers are days, our feelings, our struggles. We tell ourselves and each other stories. We tell tall tales, short tails, tales of derring-do, tales of cowardice, of love, of cosmic consequences and dental appointments. Most of us are pretty good at it. Some of us had a knack. And to be clear, telling a story and getting someone to pay to hear that story are very different. Things. Not better, not worse, just different. Likewise, given all the bad writing out there that earns money, I wouldn't even go so far to say that professional writers are held to a better standard, but there are definitely held to a different standard. Author, Neil Gaiman wants to find a good story is one that keeps the reader turning pages to see what happens next. Despite that elegantly simple definition, with so many people seeking the writer's life, there's an entire industry devoted to finding in teaching ways to write good or successful stories. They provide legions of advice and countless Byzantine rules. Which brings me to my second point. If storytelling is part of being human, all of these rules are new comers. Just as people successfully used language long before anyone invented the word grammar, they were also successfully telling stories long before anyone said there were rules. Unlike the instructions for building a car or repairing leaky faucet, storytelling rules are at best attempts to conjure something organic from the abstract, like magicians or Dr. Frankenstein. This doesn't mean they can't help or that ignoring them as wise. But the more successful a story is, the more the rules seem to vanish, the more we become focused not on the plot structure, the character development, or the words themselves, but in the fictive world, those words conjure, you know, that thing you get lost in when you're reading. Now that I've made it clear, there are no rules, let's talk about them. Stories have three essential components. Character, conflict, enclosure. There's also a fourth complications, but that's more about taking an established melody and turning it into a symphony. The three basics are usually presented in this order, but that can be deceptive. There really a dynamic system in which none of these pieces even exists without the others to be human is to want something, to want something means you don't have it. And that whatever it is, is a conflict error. Go character can't exist without conflict. Conflict can't exist without a vessel to contain it. In other words, a character. Likewise, conflict always implies it's closure which can't exist without that conflict. So just to shake things up a bit, I'm going to begin with the one I think best explains the human dependence on story conflict. Humans naturally desire equilibrium, a lack of tension. Whenever we encounter any sort of conflict, part of us wants to see it resolved. The word conflict implies a fight. But in story, that's the tip of an infinite iceberg. It can mean a battle to exterior and villain, but it can also mean unrequited love or an elevator that never arrives. It's a battery that propels story events and it can come from anywhere. The first and easiest way we divide realities into the internal and external to me and the not me. Likewise, conflict can be external. If I don't get money, I'll lose my house. Internal. I hate money, but I was taught to love it or a mix. I hate money. But if I don't get some, I'll lose my house. If conflict isn't imbalance, the better the conflict, the more we want to see that balance restored. A great conflict makes us ache to see that balance restored character. As I said, conflict can't exist in and of itself. It requires objects in order to manifest in, in a story. We call these objects whatever they are, animal, vegetable, mineral, or idea. Characters. Aside from being the vessel that contains the conflict, characters are touch points for reader involvement. Good characters keep us involved. Great characters keep us riveted. Some believed that in order for that involvement to occur, the character has to be sympathetic. Well, that's a valid, reliable way to go. The relationship can be much more complicated. We can certainly route for a sympathetic character to succeed. But we can also enjoy seeing an unsympathetic character fail. Beyond that, it's also possible not to root for anyone to simply want to see how that balance is restored. But more on that later closure. Just as conflict doesn't exist without character, it also implies its own resolution or closure. In other words, the nature of the conflict defines the ways in which it can be resolved. I mean, you can tell what's going to happen here, right? Likewise, if the conflict is unrequited, love, the closure isn't gonna be someone winning a lottery ticket. Now that's not to say a character and a love story can win a lottery. But the closure to that conflict only occurs when the character learns whether their love will be returned or not. This means there were really only three basic possibilities for closure. It can be positive, evil is defeated, negative, everyone dies or neutral, the conflict cannot be resolved. Good closure ties things up in a satisfying way. Great closure ties it up in a memorable way. Having to find the three basic story components, let's use them to tell a simple story. Alex has to get a payment to the bank to keep their house and they do the end. Not necessarily a good story, but a simple one. Again, though, we talk about these components as separate things. They're not Alex's conflict there need to get that payment to the bank is part of their character. If it wasn't if Alex didn't care about getting that payment in, there wouldn't be a conflict. Likewise, the options for closure are implicit in the conflict. Alex either makes the payment, doesn't make the payment. Circumstances change, so they no longer need or care about making the payment. Complications. Is that it for the basic elements? Yes or no? 12,000 years ago I attended a presentation by then editor-in-chief of Marvel Comics, Jim Shooter, in which I first heard of the fourth, which he called heightening the tension. But to be more general and sticking with alliteration, I'll call it complications. The reason I say yes and no is because complications are really just conflicts, more specifically, additional conflicts that usually delay closure properly used. They can change the story from a two-step dance to an intricate ballet. Adding complications to our simple scenario might look like this. Hi, Alex has to get a payment to the bank to keep their house, but the car runs out of gas. On the way to a gas station, Alex falls into a river and is dragged toward a waterfall. A hungry grizzly bear and excellent swimmer dies. And after them, Alex decides the only way to save themselves is to somehow get on the bears back. But the bear is opposed to this idea. Notice how the bear and the river can be seen as metaphors for Alex's financial conflict. The river can be seen as a metaphor for the drowning debt. The hungry bear as the foreclosing back. Honestly, I wasn't thinking that when I created this example, sometimes I suspect that any complication can be interpreted as a metaphor for the basic conflict. If you can think of one that can't, please let me know. One's character and conflict are established. Closures, implicit, meaning that the biggest leeway and maybe the biggest opportunity for creativity comes in the form of complications. To extend the earlier dance metaphor, if we think of the characters, the dancer, the conflict is gravity and the closure is hitting the ground. The complications then are the dance itself. I began with conflict in practical terms though, in order to see conflict, we have to see what the conflict is acting on. Which is why the list usually appears as follows. Character, conflict, complications, closure, and practice. A story doesn't necessarily unfold in this order. Character and conflict are often introduced simultaneously. Just a narrator might open with a discussion of the conflict before even introducing a character like this. Take it from me. Paying bills can be a pain. Why I knew this one-person, alex. It's also common to begin historian medius rest, Latin for in the middle of things. John Milton's epic poem, Paradise Lost about the battle between Satan and God and the creation of man begins with Satan inhale, tied to a burning lake after the war in heaven is over. Milton, no master storytelling and juggling complications later gives us that war as a flashback to use in media rests in our far simpler example. The story could begin with Alex and the river watching the bear swim toward them while they're thinking about how they really have to get to the bank. Other experiments about many stories and several television series including Seinfeld in the X-Files have experiment with telling the story backwards, presenting the closure first and ending with the conflict. To get back to my initial point, if story predates any rules, these four components are hardly a final definition. On the other hand, I've yet to encounter a story that doesn't somehow fit these criteria. From free verse poetry to a treatise on quantum mechanics. I believe that some form of story that basic quality of tension and release is present. Even when we experience a story told in media arrest or backwards, we're mentally piecing it back together in chronological order. These variations themselves become a type of conflict or complication that makes us seek balance. In other words, they work because of our innate understanding of story. So in conclusion, while not absolute in any sense, the basic rules give us several useful things. And easy way to think of stories. A handy way to build a story from scratch, and a way to decide what to include when crafting a summary or query. That said next up, we'll take a look at each of these components in more detail. 3. Lecture 2: Character: In this lecture, I take a closer look at character, how character works in the context of story dynamics, the impact of reader sympathy, and the three basic modes in which character can be expressed. While conflict, as mentioned, insights and propels, story events, character beat Iraq a person or essentially and planet gives us a specific relationship to those events. If the conflict is trying to get across the room, we don't focus on the distance so much is whoever has the desire to cross it. Character details, the specifics that try to bring a character to life effective as they may be, and it can be wildly effective. Our declarations for that core on a basic level character is defined by the conflict. To use our simple example, if alix wants to get to the bank to save their house, we know there's someone who wants to keep their house. Even if that were there only characteristic if the obstacles between Alex and the bank are intriguing, if the journey is evocative and engaging, it could still be very enjoyable to watch Alex go through their paces, even if we don't know anything else about them. But Alex, beyond being a blank placeholder for our sympathies, wouldn't be particularly interesting. We wouldn't want to watch Alex so much as what happens to them. Simply varying Alex's character by gender, ethnicity or species can add some new ones and ambience, but it's still all about getting that money to the bank. Similarly, adding character traits, say a love of dogs or a sneaky distrusting nature can make Alex feel more like a whole human being. But the story itself remains much the same. On the other hand, adding character traits related to the conflict can alter everything from the intensity of reader sympathy to the nature of the story. For instance, say Alex is one of the following shutting who hasn't left home in 20 years, who has to get to the bank to save their house. Or wrongly convicted escaped criminal living in secret, who has to get to the bank to save their house. A compulsive house collector who has to get to the bank to save their house. Someone who lives where they met their long-lost love in the hope that they'll return. Who has to get to the bank to save their house? The first to raise the stakes by enhancing the conflict. I shut it, has a clear internal conflict and a different set of challenges. And escaped criminal has a clear conflict with society and a heightened danger to their well-being. In both cases, we're no longer just talking about a race against time. On the other hand, the second to redefine the story, in which case we may no longer be talking about a race against time at all. What a compulsive person be better off losing the house so they can face their compulsion. Why did Alex's lost love not workout? Is it really possible they might return? Or is it Alex been wasting their life? A simple character with an obvious need may be desirable if the story's plot driven, which we'll talk more about later. But uncovering character intricacies can be an epic tale in itself. Characters with layer desires present the dramatic opportunity to peel them away a bit at a time, revealing more central truths, which consequently reveal deeper conflicts. A process often referred to unsurprisingly as the revelation of deep character. In our example, what we originally thought of as the main conflict, saving a house may only be a complication, hiding the real issue. We may ultimately learned that it only seems as if Alice wants to save their house. They might not even realize that they're true goal, maybe freedom from compulsion or reconnecting with lost love. In such cases, a closure in which the house is lost but the character gains something else could be more satisfying. If character creates our connection to story events, it follows that a large part of our story experience is derived from our relationship to that character, which at least leans toward one of three possible forms with a world of gray in between indifference. We don't care about the character. Sympathy. We like the character. Antipathy. We disliked the character. The stronger the sympathy or antipathy, the more emotional impact story events have. For instance, if a character dies in a terrible fashion, indifference would buffer our pain. Sympathy would enhance it. Antipathy might actually make us enjoy it. Typically when routes for the hero and the villain. But our feelings toward a character don't necessarily determine whether we want them to succeed or fail. Wanting to see an annoying, self-centered detective foil and murderer doesn't mean we have to like it. Likewise, while you might think villain should evoke antipathy, the best are those whose motivations are at least partly sympathetic. And in our heart of hearts, what we really sympathize with can be pretty dark. The fact that Darth Vader masks out. So Luke Skywalker masks at Halloween, long before anyone knew Vader's backstories, that again, really disturbed George Lucas. But that original iteration of Darth Vader was powerful. He kills people when he feels like it. Like it or not. That's kind of exciting. Whether we care to admit it or not. Villains get to act out all sorts of socially unacceptable urges that we, as the good people we are, would never consider in real life. Making things even more complicated and interesting sympathies can shift as the story progresses. As another example of revealing deep character, if we read about a mugging, initially, we might be inclined to dislike the robber and sympathize with their victim. Those feelings might change if we learned that the victim fired the robber for selfish reasons and the mugger needed money to pay for their child's life-saving operation. Pasting these character revelations carefully enhances their impact. Just as it's easier to shock someone after you've made them laugh. Discovering that a character the reader has come to like is secretly a sadist, adds a sense of betrayal that can make them really hate them. Likewise, finding out that a dislike of caustic figure spends his night helping out in a soup kitchen, can make readers like them all the more. Character traits and more specifically, the revelation of deep character can therefore become complications that can alter the story and our perception of the conflict. With that dynamic in mind. How do we go about expressing that character? We could simply say, for instance, Alex is a shut it. Depending on the just and flow of a summary or query, that overview might be the best way to go, but it does violate the most important rule of writing. Show, don't tell. Meaning just don't tell me Alex is a shutting Sheldon being a shut it. There are three ways or modes in which character can be expressed. Appearance, Alex's skinny because they're afraid to go buy food. Action. Alex tries to open the front door but winds up in a terrified fetal ball. Thought. Alex imagines the terrible things that might happen to them once they're outside. Any one of these modes may dominate a given character. And intellectual might express themselves primarily through words and aesthetic, through appearance. An athlete, through action. In more complex character's personality traits unable to find expression in one mode may come out in another. A brain surgeon or actions and tight control has a sloppy appearance. A firefighter physically active on the job, dreams about abstract poetry by night. Like many aspects of storytelling, these three modes interact. Each can either reflect, contradict, or have no impact on the others. A scarred man intentionally frames kindergarteners. Appearance reflects action. A groomed CEO begs for change. Appearance contradicts action. A detective wears a hat as he crosses the street. Appearance and action don't impact. Fishermen considers his love of the sport, as the thread says, line action or flex thought. A woman tells the man she loves that she hates him. Action contradicts thought. This mix and match list is meant simply to give a sense of the possibilities more isn't necessarily better. Using multiple modes and motivations can create a dense mess rather than an intriguing character. Depending on the goals of your story, a simple character with just one motivation may easily fill the bill, or they may need just one more trick to bring them to life. At what point do they come to life? When their actions seem to write themselves, or rather when their motives and behavior mesh in a fluid way. The point is to be aware of the possibilities and make sure that those basic character traits mesh in some manner with our next topic. Conflict. 4. Lecture 3: Conflict: This lecture covers the core of any story conflict. In it, I'll discuss the four basic types of conflict and how they, like many of our categories, mix and overlap. Before we begin a caveat, breaking something into pieces to see how it works can be useful. But if you take out a dog's heart to see how the dog works, the dog stops working. Similarly, when writers first try to dissect their own work, they often find themselves like the centipede asked how it coordinates all its legs trapped in a ditch, unable to move, fear not once mastered all the elements becomes second nature, at which point the magic returns. Likewise, as I mentioned earlier, character conflict enclosure for thermodynamic interdependent system. All writer's point of entry is arbitrary. You can design a character with a conflict in mind, or design a conflict with a character in mind. With that in mind, let's take that dog apart. As I said in lecture one, conflict is the battery that propels the story. It can be a slug fest, internal, abstract, or even surreal. A superhero or a secret agent fighting an evil villain to save the earth is a conflict with someone with 11 items standing in an express line, strictly limited to ten. Conflict is also part and parcel of the way we perceive reality. To get this idea across, I'll use an example. We don't generally think of as a story music. He ever wonder why there isn't a black key for every white key on the piano. It's because the 8-note musical scale is based on conflict, attention and ultimately a release closure. The space between two adjacent white keys separated by a black key, forms a whole step. The space between two white keys, not separated by a blocky, forms a half-step. And the scale consists of two whole steps. One half step, three whole, and one-half. Those first two whole-steps establish a pattern. Once we hear the two whole steps, part of us expects the pattern to continue with the third whole step. When it hits a half-step instead, our expectation is thwarted, creating a tension or conflict. The three whole steps following restore the pattern. But not quite, since they have a different relationship to the first two. It's only when the final half-step sounds. That equilibrium is restored, enclosure achieved. But conflict doesn't exist without character right here. That character is us, the listener. Our desire to hear that pattern resolved is the reason the final note in the scale sounds satisfying. In a narrative, the principal operates the same way. The imbalance in short, is a desire. Any desire, whether it's as basic as wanting to stay alive. For as complex as a philosophical need to prove that God doesn't exist. To be clear, desire also doesn't exist without an obstacle. After all, you can't want something if you already have it. Even if a character only wants to be on the other side of the room, the obstacles, the fact that they're not already there. In lecture one, I use the example of Alex wants to get to the bank to make a payment to save their house. There the obstacles, the fact that Alex isn't currently at the bank. It's usually a good idea to get to your conflict quickly, motivating readers to find out what happens next. But that doesn't mean stories always have to start there. The greatest stories may open with anything from a character note to a thematic observation. Like the first line of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Happy families are alike. Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. No conflict there per say. But it's certainly hints that we're going to see. So whenever it occurs, the conflicts first appearance is usually called the inciting incident. This the moment things go out of balance for the character and the desire for closure is established for the reader. In a sense, it's the moment things fall together when the nature of the story is revealed. So say a story opens with Mike, a harried man making breakfast, risk kids, rushing them off to school, establishing him as a family man. Then he gets a phone call telling him his wife Jane has been kidnapped. The phone call is the inciting incident. It's at that moment, the story begins. Just as we first divide reality into me and not me. Whatever the conflict, the obstacle takes at least one of four basic forms. Self, the character stands in the way of achieving their own desires. And individual. Another character stands in the way of the character achieving their desired society, family, civilization, or its laws stand in the way the characters achieving their desire. Nature. Non-human forces stand in the way of the character achieving their desire. I say at least because things are often more complicated and there's an awful lot of gray. After all, even if we divide the world into me and not me, where exactly is the line? If I lose an arm, I remain me making my own arm, both me and not me. Nevertheless, the distinctions remain useful. Character against self involves incompatible desires within a single character. These come in two basic types, a choice or a compulsion. Choices are internal conflicts, at least nominally under the characters control. As engineering McGuire's desire for both career in love or Anna Karenina is pull between responsibility and passionate. And darker scenarios that choice can be between the lesser of two evils. As in The Maltese Falcon, where Sam Spade decides whether to protect the woman he loves or bring them to justice for the murder of his partner. A Compulsion though, is an unwanted desire, such as a drug addiction, which forms the conflict in stories such as Requiem for a Dream or the days of wine and roses, circumstances can even create convulsions, as in Castaway with Tom Hanks, where the character's isolation threatens his sanity. Or the Hulk, where Bruce Banner struggles to stay calm to avoid becoming a rampage in beast. Character against character. Examples of character against character are easy to find and fairly obvious. Any hero has his villain, every romance, rivals where we'd homes be without more ART. Skywalker without the Emperor Claudius Sterling, without Hannibal Lecter. Character against society is a bit trickier because societies will always has to manifest or a character or characters. It can be easily confused for character versus character and may well be both. Here though, the opposing character must more specifically uphold some form of social expectation, usually in the form of tradition or law. For instance, Romeo and Juliet struggle against the expectations of their families, the feuding Capulets and Montagues, many societies on their own. In Twilight, Bella and Edwards love, struggle against the expectations of their different communities. Vampire in human character against nature. The definition of nature can include god or gods, but only as long as the opposition is specifically a force, not something that behaves like us and presumably has similar choices. Predator is character versus character, even if one of the characters happens to be an alien. A simple example would be our character who wants to be on the other side of the room. To achieve their goal, the character has to struggle against reality, to change it and walk or crawl. More popular examples tend to focus on survival, like Titanic were the basic obstacle is a slowly sinking ship. The perfect storm, where a crew struggles against a massive hurricane. Or Hemingway's classic, The Old Man and the C were fishermen fights a Marlin. In all cases. Importantly, the opposition of nature is not subject to reason or appeasement, is gonna do what It's gonna do. You can't change its mind. I said that the obstacle takes at least one of these four forms. While every story is driven by a central conflict, most involve a variety of conflicts that overlap, reflect, and change one another. As the wolf man struggles with his internal blood loss, external forces work to kill him. In the fantastic, the revelation of an external trick creates an internal change. Learning they were deceived by their parents. The lovers no longer want one another. One Spider-Man doesn't want to marry his beloved to protect it from his enemies, his external conflicts cause and are reflected by his internal conflict. In The Walking Dead, the conflict often shifts from humans against zombies to humans against themselves or other humans. And it gets even more complicated. On the one hand, Scott McCloud in his excellent book Making Comics, argues that since conflict begins with a character wanting, nearly all conflict is internal. On the other hand, in order for a desire to exist, something must be blocking its fulfillment. That makes all conflict external. If an internal compulsion is genetic as in an addiction, why can't it be considered a conflict with nature? I since the Marlin in Old Man and the C wants to live, it can be considered a character making the conflict character against character. If a hero opposes a villain in order to uphold the law, the conflict is also arguably character villain against society. The best narratives explore these definitions. Moby **** for instance, while arguably man versus nature in the form of the whale, questions the nature of both pushing their boundaries. Bottom line though, conflicts for better or worse, are easy to find. Next up, complications. 5. Lecture 4: Complications: Character conflict, enclosure form a complete story. But here I'll take a closer look at that fourth element, complication and how they can be used to establish a more complex, satisfying narrative rhythm. I'll also discuss how they form subplots. And lastly, distinguishing them from other methods of enhancing the conflict. As I've said, conflict acts as a battery that propels the story in a straight line. Complications, essentially additional conflicts, add twists and turns, but still ultimately take you to the same place. They're not unlike a cumulative children's poems. This is The House that Jack Built. This is the malt that lay in the House that Jack Built. This is that ate them all. That lay in the House that Jack Built. This is the cat that killed the rat that ate the malt that lay in the House that Jack Built. Yada, yada, yada, or better yet, the old lady who swallowed the fly and the spider and the cat and so on. Such examples, the complications simply extend events to an absurd length until finally, for instance, the old lady dies from horse consumption. But what the cumulative poem, the length and the absurdity or the point. Like them. All narratives have a cadence, Dramatic beats that bill to a crescendo. With that in mind, let's look again at our story sample. Alix wants to get to the bank to keep their house and they do the character conflict enclosure form a simple three-note tune, like the fly eating old lady. Adding those complications from lecture one extends the stories rhythm, but it can also raise the stakes. Alice tries to get a payment to the bank to keep their house, but the car runs out of gas. On their way to a gas station, Alex falls into a river and is dragged toward a waterfall. Hungry grizzly bear and excellent swimmer dives in after them. Alex decides the only way to save themselves is to somehow get on the bears back. But the bear is opposed to this idea. So by the end, Alex isn't just fighting for their house, they're fighting for their life. Just as conflict requires character and implies closure. So do complications. Making the miniatures stories. Within a story, alex falls into a river and has to get out and they do hear the character remains the same. And each new conflict is an obstacle that gets in the way of solving the main conflict, saving the house. So therefore, the closure of each complication must occur chronologically. Alex asked to get out of the river before they get to the bank. In fact, they have to get out of the river in order to be able to get to the bank. Under other circumstances though, the main conflict can be resolved without resolving the complications. Once the central conflict reaches closure, the complications may not matter anymore. For instance, of Alice loses their house, they no longer need money for gas. But a complication doesn't have to be related to the main conflict. In fact, the character involved in a complication doesn't always have to be the main character. If the complication centers on a different character, rather than a simple extension of the existing plot, it becomes more rightly a subplot. In that case, subplot closure can occur not chronologically or simultaneously, but sporadically. Alix wants to get to the bank to save her house, but their tank is empty, so they head off in search of gas. Alex's sister Sally, guilty that she left the car without gas, tries to find Alex. Alex borrows money from their brother Bill to get gas. Alice reaches the bank and saves their house. Sally finds bill instead of Alex and pays him back for the gas. Here the subplot resolves after the main conflict reaches closure. By creating various threads. The dance between the complications and the main conflict can become quite intricate. Not only that, since a complication is a story in itself, any complication could become the main story, shifting the center completely. Depending on the narratives focus, Alex's story could be about the quest to save their house, for their fight against the bear to stay alive. Let's go back to the earlier example about Mike in the kidnap Jane. Earlier, I referred to the phone call where Mike learns gene has been kidnapped as the inciting incident, the moment the story begins, but it's the moment his story begins. Then this story could be about Mike, his wife, or the kidnappers. While the call is the inciting incident for myc story, the kidnapping would be the inciting incident for Jane story. And whatever drove the kidnappers to commit their crime. Say I need to pay him up, debt would be the inciting incident for their story. All those conflicts might find closure at the same moment. Say, when Mike bravely rescues Jane and knocks out the kidnappers. If the kidnappers learned the mobster has died, their closure occurs first. If Jane freeze yourself, that brings closure to her story. When Mike gets a phone call from Jane telling him she's safe, historic achieves closure of the classic film Rashomon, whose structure has since become a standard trope, takes that a step further, retelling the same story four times from the perspective of different characters. It's been used countless times and film, TV, sitcoms and drama. And those variations of final truth is usually revealed in the original Rashomon though, it's clear that each perspective is flawed and we never find out what actually happened. The basic conflict is a desire to find the truth. The newer version say Sure, Here it is. While the negative closure of the original tells us you can't have it, the truth is inaccessible. Which is much more interesting, but not necessarily suitable for your average sitcom. I've been talking in terms of a single story, but the weaving of plots and subplots. Overlapping conflicts and complications that follow different characters can produce a soap opera that runs for decades for a monthly comic series encompassing hundreds of issues. Other dramatic tools don't add complications so much as enhance the existing conflict. We've seen how character traits like making Alex was shutting can ratchet up tension. In the same sense, adding a ticking clock while not exactly a separate subplot has a similar effect. If Alex has 5 min to get to the bank, it's not a subplot in itself. It's part of the main conflict, but it's also clearly very different than if Alex has a weak. Likewise foreshadowing an event or object that hints at things to come can help build momentum and hinted character of our example. Before Alex leaves for the bank, a faucet springs a leak, and a model of a bear falls from a shelf. This foreshadows his later troubles with the river and the bear, giving the story events or greater sense of shape, a feeling of inevitability. If nothing else, foreshadowing is a way of telling the audience that you're not making things up as you go along. My favorite example of foreshadowing is a quick shot of an innocuous grocery bag and Ghostbusters. It is a bag of state puffed marshmallows with an image of the Marshmallow Man that later tries to destroy the city. This brief look barely puts a dent in the possibilities here. As I said earlier, with character conflict and closure all implying one and other complications. Maybe the story element that allows for the most creativity. Next up, our final story component closure. And a look at how accenting each component plays into the notion of genre and creates audience expectations. 6. Lecture 5: Closure and Expectations: Given the interdependence of the four-story components, I've already covered several points about closure. Here, I'll describe the three types of closure and the difference between closure in terms of story events and closure in terms of character catharsis. Then it'll veer into an overview to take a look at how accenting each of the three basic story components creates an equally valid, though different type of story and how this accident plays into reader expectations. If conflict is tangent, closure is released. The second shoe, dropping the fulfillment or denial of a character's desire. Character and conflict can develop over time or even be fully formed before the story begins. As within medius Ras. Closure, on the other hand, usually takes place in a single moment. At least it feels that way. Say e.g. the Closure involves the main character going to college and getting a degree that takes years and it's a story in itself. But if the current stories about the making the decision to go or earning the opportunity, closure could be achieved the moment they arrive at the school or skipping the years of study completely getting handed a degree. Justice, character and conflict can take all sorts of forms. Closure can mean anything from the triumph of good over evil to a character's epiphany about their love for farm animals. But in order to be closure, the main conflict has to be resolved in some way. Therefore, as I've said, the nature of the conflict defines the options for closure. And broadly, there are three. Success. The desire fulfilled, failure, the desire denied or irrelevance. The desire changed. In our example about Alice in the bank, that means Alex gets to the bank success. Alex doesn't get to the bank failure. Alex decides getting to the bank is no longer important. Irrelevance. Importantly, even in the third case where the conflict becomes irrelevant, they can still be resolved. It just doesn't matter to the story anymore. Should Alex decide they no longer want their house, they can still keep it or lose it, but the conflict has changed. So the moment of closure changes as well. If Alice wants to keep their house because that's where they met their long-lost love. The true conflict is the quest for love. If they find love but lose the house. The main conflicts still ends with success. If they keep the house but don't gain love, the victory is pointless. And the true conflict ends negatively, which brings us to a different form of closure. The catharsis, a major change that the main character undergoes as a result of the story events. The dictionary defines catharsis as an emotional purging or cleansing. In other words, an internal closure which can be related to but not necessarily the same as the closure of story events. For instance, when Alex's house gets saved or Mike's wife is freed from the kidnapper. There's a clear closure to the story events. But at the very end of The Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy famously declares, I'm not going to leave here ever, ever again, she's expressing a change in character that's just as much part of the closure as the event of her waking from her dream. Perhaps to begin life as an agoraphobia. With Alex, that catharsis may consist of the discovery that love is more important than a house or a newfound resolved to get better taps on the gas in the car. With Mike, he may realize how important his wife is to him. Like the closure of story events, the catharsis can also be negative. A shut in may decide friends aren't worth having. A heinous villain. Me reaffirm that crime is truly his or her thing. Alex, that love is pointless. Mike that he wants a divorce because he was secretly relieved by the kidnapping. A negative event closure, losing the house can bring about a positive catharsis or vice versa. Alex might realize their limitations and vowed to fight their fear or keep the house and decide that it is more important than love. Because that's not confusing enough. But catharsis can occur before the closure of the story events. E.g. bitten by a radioactive spider, puny Peter Parker develops superpowers, having been pushed around his entire life, he decides to use them for a profit. One is failure to stop a thief results in the death of his uncle Ben. He undergoes a catharsis, the realization that he should use his powers for something more. Or in the words of Stan Lee, he realizes that with great power comes great responsibility. The story events go on, concluding when Peter brings his uncle's killer to justice. But that initial moment of catharsis is really the end of spiderman is origin story. It's also a variation of the classic hero cycle, a form so basic, it's considered an archetypical. The prideful main character must discover they're not as hot as they thought they were. In order to acquire the humility needed to resolve the main conflict, bringing us back to that essential dance of tension and release. But while closure is essential to his story, we don't always read just to find out what happens. Sometimes it's about the journey, not the destination. Which brings us to. Earlier I defined conflict is the battery that propels story of that. Well, that remains true. It's not necessarily what propels reader's interest. In fact, any of the three basic elements can be emphasized to carry the weight of that interest. A character-driven story may have a fairly familiar conflict, but the rich, multifaceted personalities. Keep audiences engaged. As in Downton Abbey, the Catcher in the Rye or HBO Succession. Closure driven stories are more commonly referred to as mysteries or stories with twist endings, such as the sixth sense or Murder on the Orient Express, or any number of Twilight Zone episodes, all arguably driven by the moment of closure. We watch to find out how it ends. In a plot driven or perhaps more accurately conflict driven story, the characters may be painfully familiar, but the story so well-told, we go along for the ride. A major sub-category would be an action driven story, as in the original Star Wars, a New Hope, or die-hard nonfiction embraces these emphases as well. Most biographies or character-driven histories plot driven. While something like the race for the double-helix is arguably driven by closure, the aha moment when the goal is achieved. As with all our other definitions, there's a wealth of gray between the lines and most stories or a blend. Importantly though they emphasized aspect sets up expectations in the reader, which brings us to our last subject for this lecture. Reader expectations. If you have a character express a desire, at least at first, the audience will naturally want to see what comes of it and pass that intriguing personalities, thrilling action, seemingly inscrutable puzzles and so on, give the audience cues about what to expect from the rest. These expectations form the basis of genre. Go to the romance, science fiction, or mystery section of the bookstore, or search for such terms online. And you'll have a pretty good idea what you'll find. Playing with those expectations, delaying or changing things up can provide a thrilling ride. On the other hand, forwarding them without providing something worthwhile and exchange can create a career-ending disappointment. You went in, for instance, want to shift from an action driven story to one that's completely character-driven. In midstream. The HBO series, The Sopranos seemed to promise a conclusion regarding the fate of the main character, organized crime boss Tony Soprano. When the enigmatic final episode fail to achieve a clear closure or catharsis. Many were deeply disappointed. Similarly, the revelation of the grand conspiracy in the X-Files or the discovery of the killer in Twin Peaks took so long that they left many viewers you on it. Fulfilling audience expectations needn't be seen as limiting. While a by the number of genre story could well be so generic, it'd be unlikely to attract readers. Something like Moby **** fulfills all the genre expectations of a horror story, complete with mayhem, madness, and a monster. But that hardly prevents it from being much more. Now that said, it's important to note that it fulfills those genre expectations completely. Considering those genre expectations takes us to a delightful oxymoron. Like editors looking for a relatively short thing. Genre fans are looking for stories that are exactly the same, only different. Those expectations are also very handy when it comes to the point of this glass creating compelling summaries. The exactly the same part provides a quick, easy shorthand for getting the basic story across. And whatever your project, no matter the subject or its complexity, your summary, pitch or query has to communicate that core. Otherwise, it's just a series of events without the momentum necessary to generate an editor or a reader's interest. To give you some sense of the rich variation involved in all of this. I invite you to visit the following helpful links for ideas and inspiration. List of character traits from rewrite. Think that list of archetypical characters and plots from the wonderfully exhaustive TV tropes.org and a list of genres and subgenres from Wikipedia with story basics under our belt, the next two lectures, creating summaries the three tiers and creating summaries the hybrid approach focused on how to go about squeezing all this into a short space. See you there. 7. Lecture 6: Summaries I: Having covered story, these next two lectures focus on how to summarize them for pitches and queries. And different media have developed different ways of using summaries which naturally reflect their relationship with the writer. In this first lecture, I'll discuss how these differences developed, then define the tiered connection between a pitch, a springboard, and a synopsis. In the second, I'll discuss how paring down stories can influence how we write. And finally, how a hybrid of these methods can work best for queries during Hollywood studio era. Or someone could actually get a steady job as a junior writer, along with benefits and vacation time. Staff riding positions still exist at websites in television or related fields such as advertising or public relations. But the vast majority of writers aren't salaried employees or freelancers. And freelancers have to sell their services on a regular basis. The more successful the freelancer, the more options they have about who to work for and what kind of work they do. And that's as true for carpenters as it is for writers. Book authors generally create their work first and try selling it. Second. Aside from publishers deadlines, how they go about writing their book does their own business. They can sleep during the day, work at night, refused to use adjectives or writing longhand on a single long sheet of butcher paper. It doesn't matter as long as they managed to sell the results. Now that's not the case for all writers. Newspapers, remember those magazines, comic books, and television rely on producing marketable content on a regular basis. Daily newspapers need daily content. Monthly comics need monthly stories. Weekly TV shows need weekly content, and 24 hour news channels need content round the clock. That strict dependence on schedule necessitates a more reliable assembly line approach to producing the content. Yes, writers can induce cell articles, scripts and tell a place that they've already written. But in most cases, that's more about breaking in. Once they become part of the regular workflow, they find themselves presenting or pitching several ideas at once before they've even started writing the final product. Whichever idea an editor or their TV counterpart or show runner selects or asks for, becomes the piece the writer has to complete. As part of that mindset, creating content is looked on as a more piecemeal mechanical process. In those Hollywood studio days, entire departments of salaried script writers developed ideas together, revising and polishing one another's work. A similar situation exists in today's television writer rooms. From concept to Dramatic beats to dialogue. Everything is up for grabs, often with different people involved along the way. To be clear, book publishers can and do operate with a similar assembly line mentality. A small romance, mystery or horror publisher who's success is based more on a number of exactly the same, only different titles as opposed to singular standout bestsellers can have a similar field. While there is some overlap, a major portion of the book industry didn't evolve with the same sort of need for a constant flow of content. As a result, they tend to think of the process is more directly linked to a single author. Sure, and occasional manuscript might be sent to an uncredited ghostwriter. But it's hard to imagine a mainstream novel sharing the same long list of writers that many movies do. That difference impacts how freelancers, right? In one case, the starting places arbitrary, a whim, a sudden inspiration, a call from the muse. And the other case, once you sell a pitch, you're the one who has to call the Muse and hope that they answered. I don't consider one process superior. Clearly spending years on a single novel has produced impressive results. On the other hand, despite arguments that no great artists ever created by committee, There's no shortage of brilliance coming out of those writing rooms from breaking bad to the good place. Just as exercise builds muscle, generating regular content develops and Holmes writing skills. Margaret Mitchell, for instance, took three years to write, Gone With the Wind, but that was only after she'd spent four years writing features for the Atlanta Journal. For about ten years, I freelanced for egg mom publishing, pitching six or seven comic bookstores a month starring Mickey Mouse and friends, resulting in something like 500 stories published in 34 languages. That practice and quickly defining character conflict enclosure was invaluable. So what's this got to do with summaries? Well, in keeping with that assembly line need tiered systems developed for generating content. All of which move in stages from the general to the specific. After all, it's much easier and faster to make alterations to an idea than it is to a completed script. That all starts with a simple hook that spells out the main character in conflict. These pithy hooks are known by a few names, and while there are minor differences, they're often used interchangeably. A pitch, a brief catchy sentence or two, refers to the sale of any product, not just stories. The high concept pitch refers to mash-ups like Back to the future meets sopranos and apt description of the film looper. Another variation, the elevator pitch, is just long enough to get across the idea in the course of a 60-second elevator ride. Lastly, a logline refers more specifically to Film and TV were hired script readers literally enter short descriptions into a log. As a result, many of those script readers become quite good at creating summaries. Here are some examples of log lines from popular films. I'll wait a few seconds before I reveal the source. So see if you can guess the title. A young woman pursues her passion for soccer against the wishes of her traditional seek parents. Bend It Like Beckham. After being falsely convicted of the murder of his wife on one's prominent surgeon escapes custody to find the real killer and clear his name. The Fugitive. Just before World War II and adventuring archaeologist races around the globe to prevent the Nazis from turning the greatest archaeological relic of all time into a weapon of world conquest. Raiders of the Lost Ark. A family man struggles to escape a small town for a more successful big city life. One is constant efforts fail. The contemplates suicide. But his guardian angel shows him what the world would be like if he'd never been born. It's a Wonderful Life. Notice that all of these focus on character in conflict and none include closure. Springboards are sometimes considered synonymous with a pitcher logline. But in practice, there are a bit longer, say three to five sentences and contain a complete story including that closure. As such, many log lines can easily be turned into spring boards as follows. A family man struggles to escape his small town for a more successful big city life when is constant efforts fail, he contemplates suicide, but his guardian angel shows them what the world would be like if he'd never been born. Recognizing his importance to those he loves, he embraces his life with gratitude. And perhaps you can begin to see why these concepts overlap. The difference, however, makes the springboard a nice midway point to the next year, the synopsis. Unlike the others, a synopsis spells out the major story moments from beginning to end. In film. They're also called treatments. In the case of a novel, It's usually broken down by chapter, otherwise by scene. A term that can refer to the action in a single location, or more properly, a complete dramatic beat with its own beginning, middle, and end. Unlike the few sentences or single paragraph we've seen so far, a synopsis for a typical novel can run ten pages or more. Synopsis for major films and novels can be found online like this one for the opening of It's a Wonderful Life, which I've paraphrased from Wikipedia. Bedford Falls Christmas Eve. George Bailey is deeply troubled. Prayers from his friends and family reach heaven, causing to head angels to assign a second-class Angel, Clarence, to save him. They reviewed George's life beginning at age 12, when George saved his younger brother Harry, who'd fallen through the ice on a frozen pond. Because of this action, George lost the hearing in his left ear. Note how the abstract concepts from the springboard, a family man struggles, are replaced with concrete detail. Bedford Falls, Christmas Eve, George Bailey. And that's because the synopsis does something crucial that the pigeon springboard don't. It puts us in the moment. At the same time, all of these stages, pitch, springboard, and synopsis, violate the primary rule of good writing, which of course you'll recall is show don't tell. With phrases like fallen through the ice on a frozen pond. The synopsis almost gets there. And in practice, the better synopsis do some showing here in there, including, for instance, snappy bits of dialogue. But they remain at heart and overview. The big shift from telling to showing takes place in the final stage, the completed script or novel. In addition to its efficiency, this lack of showing also reflects the writer's position in the process. If you're selling pitches, spring boards, and synopsis is because you've already proven, you can write that you can be trusted to show rather than tell in the final step. Reducing a story idea to its core components can be incredibly difficult in the hustle and bustle of squeezing it into a small space. It's easy to throw out the baby with the bathwater, losing the emotional core, or tossing that small detail that makes the story a story rather than a dry recitation. The famous distinction goes, the queen died, and then the king died is a plot. The queen died, and then the king died of a broken heart is a story. The difference is four words, but they make us feel something. How do they do that? Pretty much by giving us the character of the king. He goes from being a placeholder to being someone who loves so deeply. He can't live without his partner. That sense of character is not only key to keeping the baby, It's also what many of my students tend to leave out. As in this example, it doesn't have to be a lot, but it makes a huge difference. Let's take a moment to go back to our log lines and look at how efficiently they give us a broad but viable sense of the character. A young woman with traditional Parents, teen with rigid parents is plenty of conflict there. Well, once prominent surgeon, a man used to success who's now lost everything and adventuring archaeologist and intriguing juxtaposition of intellect and action. A family man, even that one word, family, gives us a sense of someone who has something important that they could lose. To get a sense of the difference, a logline for Hamlet might go something like this. A prince learns whose father was murdered by his usurper uncle and must decide how to act. In terms of plot, that sounds kinda interesting, but the prince is a total blank, is a spoiled, noble, self involved, power hungry, shy. What? Adding a single word changes the field completely. A melancholy prints learns his father was murdered by his usurper uncle and must decide how to act. Now, we've got a brooding teen who can't decide what to do, being forced to do something big difference. And Hamlet is indeed often referred to as the melancholy Dane. Conflict is the battery that propels events. But as I've said, it's character that connects us to those events, making them feel alive. So in summarizing your work, the big key is to make sure that character comes through and conclusion, the movement from pitch to completed work is a layering process, beginning with a concept, adding shape, detail, and ultimately dialogue and engaging prose. The tiered structure provides another huge benefit. One not only required by media's need for regular content, but also by the vast majority of freelance writers are reliable method of story creation. We'll see how that can impact our reading method in the next lecture. 8. Lecture 7: Summaries II: With the tiered approach in mind, this second lecture on summaries discusses how a hybrid of show-and-tell can be used to produce a particularly strong written pitch. Then I'll talk about how the summarizing process itself reflects two very different methods of writing. Pitches and written queries are, if you'll forgive me, exactly the same, only different. Their basic goal is to get someone to commit to reading more. The crucial difference is that an oral pitch doesn't have the same burden. It can largely be content to simply tell, relying more on tone of voice and facial expression to bring it to life in a query while the writer wants to get across the same story, a pure pitch or springboard can come across as bloodless on the page. On the other hand, queries can also communicate the competence and flavor of the writing. Whether you're elegant prose as a selling point or your work is more character than plot driven. Relying on an arm's distance pitch puts you at a serious disadvantage. Not only that, the story or content they'll crucial is only one of five query basics. And showing by nature takes up more space than telling. For instance, Dan cried versus the smooth skin around Dan's eyes crinkled tightly, growing wet and puffy. Tears welled in the corners, cascading quickly down his cheeks to his chin, and dripping onto the distant uncaring floor. That's two words versus 32. The course of an 80,000 word book. That's not much of a difference, but in a one-page query, it's huge. Fortunately, there's a third option whether to open with enough show, don't tell specifics to bring the story to life. Then go into a more tale. Don't show overview to fill out the plot details. Essentially, it's a springboard that opens with a story moment. And that's the order you want to present them into the story. Moment is a hook. None. The overview to give context and structure, the order you choose to write them is another question. If you're not confident about writing summaries, I suggest starting with the hard part, the overview, which can in turn help you decide which story moment you want to use for your hook. Picking the right moment is essential. It can't just be evocative, it has to be exemplary, directly connected to the main conflict. Otherwise, the mismatch can be jarring no matter how great the writing is. To get a better sense of the pitfalls, Let's add a few show don't tell sentences to last lectures pitch for It's a Wonderful Life. Apologies in advance for my lousy Jimmy Stewart. George Bailey, you give me that road right now. Mary said sternly, still wet from there, accidental dip in the high school pool. George Bailey gaped at the bush, barely concealing his now Naked date. Juggling, he gave off a long low wolf whistle. While now I'll have to think about that. Fellow doesn't get an opportunity like this. Very often, George spent his life struggling to escape his small town for a more successful big city life. When his constant efforts fail, he contemplates suicide until his guardian angel shows him what the world would be like if he'd never been born. While this gives us a specific moment and then moves into an overview. This particular moment, while evocative and delightful, has little to do with the overview, creating an odd dissonance that leaves us more confused and engaged. What we want is a moment that reflects the overview. Something more like panting surrounded by swirling snow. George Bailey cried into the cold night. Hi morris, marked dead and alive, jaw aching, sleepless, thinking how the insurance would spare his family from bankruptcy. He looked down at the freezing water below, ready to jump. George spent his life struggling to escape his small town for a more successful big city life. When is constant efforts fail, he contemplates suicide until his guardian angel shows him what the world would be like if he'd never been born. The right moment also doesn't have to be the best, most exciting for well-written part of your story. But it does have to communicate the central conflict. We tend to think of story moments as belonging to fiction. But just as non-fiction has its own characters and conflicts, it also has sequences which bring their subject to life. As in this description of a scientists inspiring dream. Eyes weary from reading, Kekule set the book down and allowed his mind a moment's rest. Free of focus, his thoughts drifted, images dancing about with no seeming purpose. From out of that pleasant haze, Rosa great snake, it's coils forming a circle, its mouth holding onto its own tail in perfect symmetry. In a flash, it occurred to the chemist that this was it the shape of the benzene molecule. A final note about that story moment, since it's not serving the same purpose as it does in the book, you don't have to present it the same way, word for word. Given space constraints. Feel free to condense it for the one-page query, even create a story moment that gets the idea across before leaving the subject of summaries for more specifics on query writing, Let's take a look at how the process can influence the way we write it as a big planet. All sorts of writers were all sorts of ways. Some dive in with a random word, not even knowing who your characters are for how their story will end, preferring to discover all that along the way. First approach might be called holistic. Looking at the whole system in developing intuitions rather than what we might think of as more mechanical skills. Others outline each story moment in excruciating detail long before starting on the prose itself. This approach more related to that tiered assembly line method might be called Reductionist, working with the pieces and then assembling them into a whole. Importantly, reductionism and holism, arc streams with a world of gray between them. It's entirely possible to write and think about writing in more than one way. Taking a reductionist approach at times, while still respecting those flashes of inspiration. More than that, it truly, madly, deeply doesn't matter when it comes to the creative process. The only thing that counts is the result. If you're happy with the way your stories turnout, There's no reason to change your process. If it's not broken, don't fix it. If you're trying to write for a living. However, there are some issues to consider. The first being ease. If we establish habits based entirely on intuition and flow, achieving the brevity needed for a query can be more difficult to master. Summarizing being a different way of thinking rather than an extension of your personal process. On the other hand, if you begin your work with something akin to a high concept, you're already writing your content summary, making, creating the pitch easier. Some writers, particularly beginners, consider the reductionist approach contrary to true creativity. They feel that working so consciously boxes of them in hindering the magic that brings the page to life. And they do have a point. When first defining story, I pointed out that it pre-exists that definition, as well as any storytelling rules. The creation of a fictive world via words is a natural part of the human experience and in some sense, inherently organic. All these lectures though, take a reductionist approach, which I earlier described as trying to see how a dog works by taking it apart. Naturally that can hurt the dog. And who wants to hurt the doggie? At the same time, it's not actually a dog, right? And there's a lot to be gained by taking our writing apart, not only in terms of understanding or honing skills, but in achieving a reliable method of writing during those long, lonely nights when the muse ghosts us. So the second thing to consider is reliability. Intuition may provide a flash of brilliance, but you can't summon it, it will. The rules of the reductionist approach are always there. It also offers efficiency. If you only plan to write a novel every few years or so and prefer not to work from outlines are springboards. You can of course, write the complete story and then reverse engineered to produce the content summary for your query. If however you hope to complete books, articles, or stories on a regular basis, productivity becomes crucial. Success reads deadlines, and author relying solely on intuition is more likely to have trouble meeting them. Overall, it's a personal choice. Again, whatever works, works, one person can grab a guitar, fiddle with it for a few years and produce some lovely music. Another might thrive by studying chord structure and music theory. Further, if practise diligently, the reductionist approach can become intuitive. The person is studying chord structure, for instance, eventually develops the skill, and this skill becomes instinct. Arguably, they stand a better chance of taking their art further than the person who only play it by ear. I always write using an outline to me. If you have no idea where your story is going, it's too easy to abdicate structure and important tools like foreshadowing. Rather than making me feel boxed in working from an outline offers the different but equally satisfying challenge of finding the life in each story moment. It may seem like a contradiction, but for me, it opens things up much more than it closes them down. On the other hand, my outlines aren't written in stone. Whenever a better idea crops up, I changed the outline. The process feels more like a dialogue between the pros in and outline between holism and reductionism, if you will, rather than one dominating the other. A lot of the things we perceive as traps really aren't like writing itself. The chains are illusions. In short, there's no need to make a stark choice between reductionism and holism. Both can however, and should be tools in the toolbox respected and used for their unique benefits. However, you approach writing when it comes to the query, brevity remains key and it's not easy. Hawaii is person one said, I apologize for the length of this letter, but I didn't have time to make it shorter, which we'll see as we dive in for a closer look. Next lecture. 9. Lecture 8: The Five Query Basics: A version of this lecture also appears in my writers Survival Guide. So if you've seen that, feel free to skip it, but do proceed to the next series of lectures where I go into a lot more specifics. Here, I'll briefly define the five parts of a query. But first, what is a query? Where did it come from? What does it want of us? Well, once upon a time on a dark and stormy night. But would be author could send their entire book to an editor and they might actually read it. But back then there were not only fewer people, there were even fewer who could read and write, and fewer still who thought that being a professional writer would be an awesome career. That wouldn't leave them a complete and utter Popper like this guy or this guy. Flash forward to the 21st century. While some feared the Internet would somehow caused the death of literacy, it's done the opposite. Making writing more part of our daily life. Every time we text, tweet, post, blog or email, we're writing. And as a species, we're producing more full length books than ever before. As a result, today's publishing industry faces a massive number of submissions, countless as the stars on a clear summers night, written by prose, semi-pro, wannabes, and artificial intelligence is reading them all is impossible at the same time, and editor never really knows which submission could be the next Harry Potter. Potter, by the way, rejected 12 times by mainstream publishers. So when I say you never really know, you really never know to better utilize their time while keeping an eye out for that rare diamond, editors and agents started asking authors not descend entire manuscripts, but instead submit a short pitch no more than a page long, which they could then use to decide whether or not to review the whole thing. Even so between unsolicited queries, works they've already asked to see and work they're preparing for publication. Editors are constantly reading. If you Google, how many queries do you receive, you'll find publishers and agencies claiming to receive tens of thousands of queries a year. So first life lesson, much is the would-be writer craze the attention of publishing pros. It's not rudeness preventing them from spending half a second on your query. It's time, pure and simple. Fiction, non-fiction essays, abstract poems about your pet Alsatian, whatever the subject. The goal of any query is to convince that harried, often jaded reader, that your work is worth some of their precious, precious time. The goal of a great query is to make that Harry jaded reader excited about spending some of your precious, precious time with your work. And you have just a few paragraphs to do that. And that may seem daunting, but at the same time, if the idea of trying to be brilliant for a couple of paragraphs doesn't appeal to you on some level. Why be a writer? So take it as a challenge. When editors and agents review a query, they look for the answers to five basic questions. What's the story? Will it sell? Who's the author? How much of the project is complete? And have you sent the square root of other editors or agents? The first two of the most crucial, without gripping content that appears to have a potential audience. Nothing else matters. There are exceptions, but generally the rest of the query is only there to prop up these to the bio section rather than your whole life story only includes experience directly related to your content and its marketability. In terms of the content, show your expertise, your passion. In terms of the market. Has any of your work proven successful? Do you have social media followers and pass that? Are you reliable? Will you deliver on time and make requested edits in a professional manner? The last two are brief, simple matters of etiquette. How much of the project is complete when pitching an article or short story, there's seldom any reason for the work not to be complete. So this is more specifically in reference to book-length efforts. Agents and editors naturally prefer the burden hand a finished manuscript. It removes any concerns about when and if the rider will finish the project, especially if the query is from a beginner. While a rare few stunning chapters from a beginner may still result in an advance not having the work finished heavily ways the scales. In the past, I have sold books based on what's called a partial, usually three chapters in a summary. Importantly, though, I'd already established a reliable track record as a comic book writer. And the competition has gotten a lot stiffer since, in any case, a brief mention of your books current status, finished or incomplete, and it's lengthened word count or a matter of etiquette. If you're wondering what the word counts should be like. Ya books are typically around 55 to 60,000 words, while mainstream novels and nonfiction started around 80,000 words. And now last and least, have you sent this query to other editors and agents? Many of my students assume they should only query one place at a time, which couldn't be farther from the truth. In practice, most agents and editors assume you're sending your query to more than one person. Editors glided by submission can take as long as a year to review a query, let alone a manuscript. Sometimes they don't answer at all. Many say on their website that if you don't hear from them, that means they're not interested. A, given that reality, never offer an exclusive for your work without being asked and always query more than one place. Virtually no one asks for an exclusive of the query stage. But once someone commits to reading the whole work, there are very few who do that way, just in case they want it. They don't have to compete for it. Even then, unless the request comes from the best agent or editor for your work, don't do it. And even if it is the best agent or publisher, only agree if it's no more than four weeks. On the other hand, there's no downside to multiple submissions. It increases the odds of getting your query in front of an interested party and eliminates many and needless long, grueling weight during which your bright, shiny new idea can become old news. This doesn't mean you should send your query to thousands of agents and editors at the same time. It's more about sending it to the right places. So always be sure that the editor or agent is actively involved in the kind of material you've written. You also might want to test the waters and see how your query goes over with a small number of submissions. If you receive similar feedback, consider revising your query before exhausting all the possibilities. Beyond that, it's a matter of professional courtesy to let the reader know if they're in competition for your work. It might work against you. If an editor is on the fence about your project and has a limited budget, they may not want to make an effort on the project. They could lose to someone else. On the other hand, if an editor is excited about the idea, it can only help. Most importantly, having genuine interests from another editor nearly always works in favor of the rider. Even the best editor is making an educated guess about what will sell. Having that guess affirmed by other professionals can raise their own interests and make it easier to get support in house. It can, in rare cases even lead to a best-case scenario, a book oxygen. We're interested publishers present their best offers. And the only way to get a book oxygen is if you've made multiple submissions. So as a courtesy that could play out to your advantage, I mentioned that you're sending this query to other sources. Don't use valuable space naming them or spelling out how many there are. But if one editor or agent responds positively, be sure to let anyone you haven't heard from yet know about it. Those are the basic parts of a query. As I said, the first two content market tend to be the most crucial. In practice, the importance of each can vary with the situation. If you're Stephen King, for instance, all you have to do is say, hi, I'm Stephen King by my novel, and you're done. That's your query. In fact, you don't even have to send a query because you already have a publisher. Similarly, if you're an urban explorer, writing about your experiences, your bio becomes more important and should be more front and center woven into the context of your content description. Next up, we'll take a look at the query basics in more detail, starting with the content. 10. Lecture 9: Content: In this lecture, I covered the meat of the query, the content section. Having discussed story in the summary process throughout the course, this is where you put those lessons to use, where you as an author, prove the quality of your concept and the strength of your writing. Having spent ages toiling over your beloved project. Now you have to boil it down to a few stunning sentences. One simple strategy is to write an overview then to make it come alive, illustrate that with some in-the-moment specifics. In the case of a novel, creating the overview, basically a logline is as simple as defining the main characters in the conflict. As an example, let's look at a cliche romantic situation. Pat loves Riley, but doesn't know if Riley feels the same way. By the way, I use these admittedly cliched plot ideas for three reasons. First, Familiar ideas make it easier to see how the content is expressed rather than get lost in the content itself. I don't want anyone to miss the point because they're dying to find out how Riley feels about Pat. Second part of what we've been learning is how to take seemingly simple bones like these and build them into something more. From third, whenever I have a really gripping, exciting story idea, I save it for my own work. But back to our star-crossed lovers. The main character is Pat. That's conflict is loving and not knowing if that love will be returned. Finding out could yield depths of anguish or mountains of bliss. This single sentence overview gets all that across at the same time. It's not only artless, it breaks the most popular rule of good writing. Show. Don't tell. We don't describe Pat Riley at all or how they relate. We have no clue why Pat loves Riley. We don't even know their gender. What remains is utterly abstract. And while it does capture the heart of the story, it isn't a particularly gripping way to open a query. The next step then equally important, is to use a specific story moment that illustrates the plot. Something that doesn't just tell the reader Riley loves Pat, but shows that love in action. Something like, I love you. Pat said, fiddling with the engagement ring hidden in the ice bucket. Riley was taken aback. I I I each stuttered repetition seemed an eternity Still, despite fingers increasingly numb from the ice, they remained in pet the hope Riley's answer would warn them. That takes longer, yes. And I hope you can do better in terms of pros. But it puts us directly in the story. In a way the overview can't, partly by invoking a tactile experience, partly by giving us details. Now we know Pat wants a commitment and Riley for whatever reason, can't just say, I love you back. Don't get me wrong. Overviews have their place. In fact, they have a perfect place right after the story moment. Once we're hooked, so to speak, the overview can expand the plot in an efficient manner. What Pat doesn't realize is that the uninsured Riley has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Not only that, a charismatic Dr. has expressed their love and a willingness to treat Riley for free. Will, even their friendship, survive. What comes next? Find out in my new page, turner, maybe I like you, but I like living too. You might think of nonfiction query is fundamentally different, but it's not. Genres like history or true crime have obvious characters and conflicts. But even when the subject is as abstract as math or quantum physics, every non-fiction piece uses the facts to create an argument. That argument is a form of story. A story that can likewise be thought of in generalities and expressed in specific examples. As we saw with this example, eyes weary from reading, kick you will set the book down and allowed his mind a moment's rest, free and focus his thoughts drifted images dancing about with no seeming purpose. For amount of that pleasant haze, Rosa great snake, it's coils forming a circle, its mouth holding onto its own tail in perfect symmetry. In a flash, it occurred to the chemist that this was it the shape of the benzene molecule. As the heart of the query, if the opening content is weak, the busy editor will likely move on after the first sentence. If it's wildly compelling, the rest matters less. Not that the market becomes less important, but once they're intrigued and engaged editor is more apt to see the market potential for you. They also become more willing to take a chance on a newcomer. As a final note, the content is the place to be Bolden, Brilliant, Not Coy. Were attempted to withhold details to surprise our readers, but editors and agents aren't the same as readers. Yes, they like being entertained, but they also need a sense of the big picture. So if your story pivots on a unique Plot Turn are shocking conclusion. Don't worry about spoiling things by giving it away. Once we're hooked into a moment, spell it out. Bring the very best of what you've got to that opening. Next up, marketing. 11. Lecture 10: Marketing: This lecture covers the second most important query, basic marketing. Going back to our list of things the editor wants to know, here we're dealing with the question, will it sell? The basic answer you want to get it crosses? Yes, my book will sell. Importantly though, show don't tell applies here as well. Just saying your book will sell. It doesn't mean it's going to happen or that anyone will believe you. Trust me, I've tried it to understand how to express the specific market for your book, Let's talk a little about marketing itself, which takes us smack dab into the middle of the delightful eternal tension between art and commerce. Along those lines, a common bit of advice given to new writers is right, what you love sounds great, right? If you want to be happy, of course, you should write what you love because you'll love it. And spending time with the things we love makes us happy. But in a capitalist economy, if millions of readers want to pay for page after page of pencil scribbles. Publishers will provide them whether they love it or not, and they'd be foolish not to. In other words, to make a living as a writer, you have to write what other people love. Can the two overlap? Absolutely. I believe the most successful authors happen to love writing the same things that lots of people love reading. And yes, your passion, your taste, your sense of quality, and indeed your love should come through in your query. But save it for the content description, not the marketing section. In marketing, your personal preferences could even get in the way if for instance, you decide not to compare your work to a big hit because you didn't like it so much and don't want your child associated with that garbage. So what do people love? Or more specifically, what will they buy? The most reliable indicator of what someone will buy is what they've already bought. A cold hard fact that for good or ill drives publishing investments. In other words, you'd rather have an editor say, Oh, I've made a lot of money off. It looks kinda like this one. Then. I've never seen anything like this before. I have no idea how to sell it or if it will make any money at all. While the uniqueness of the author's vision may keep readers turning pages, the question here is what made them pick up the book in the first place? The timing of the publication, what happened in the news that week, the cover, the ad campaign. Unfortunately, trying to figure that out is more magic than science. There are, of course, those rare runaway hits that take everyone by surprise. But business-wise, it's much safer to spend 1 million bucks promoting the next Stephen King novel than the first work of an unknown author. Beyond the name like kings, certain subjects or genres such as romance thrillers are mysteries tend to sell more reliably than others. That's not to say any particular genre book will definitely turn a profit, but its potential audience is more clearly defined. Similarly, at times, one book does so well, it starts an industry-wide trend. 2007 is The Hunger Games, for instance, with its bleak vision of the future, is considered responsible for a long-lasting dystopian trend in YA fiction. Importantly, these trendsetters are seldom if ever, based on startlingly new concepts. Harry Potter didn't invent magic and the Hunger Games shares much of its plot with a 2000 Japanese film, Battle Royale, that didn't learn nearly as much money, as much as we value originality. Guessing whether a book will be a blockbuster or a total flop is much more difficult than the steady sales of something more clearly derivative. In other words, once we know how much folks like Harry Potter and author could well have an easier time selling a book that reminds people of Harry Potter. Then JKL had selling the actual Harry Potter, which has mentioned, was rejected 12 times. Now you may be asking yourself, if derivative concepts are so reliable. Why not write something as close as you can get to something like Harry Potter or the Hunger Games without being sued and raking the big bucks. It can be done. It has been done, but there are obstacles. First of all, lots of writers are way ahead of you. Often by the time you start thinking about writing a knockoff that markets either blooded or about to be. Second. Unless you really understand what makes it tick and can deliver what fans expect, they'll smell a fake a mile away. What looks simplistic to an outsider usually isn't. Copyright issues aside and the fact that it's ethically grows. A book that's too similar to the trendsetter won't work because readers don't buy obvious rebuffed to pull this all together. And there was a point when editors think about what they want to buy. They want some assurance it will earn a profit and allow them to keep their jobs. Personal tastes, suicide. They end up looking for something similar to the hits, but not too similar, something new, but also old. Something, as I've said repeatedly before, that's exactly the same. Only different. As an example, take the long-lasting vampire craze. Despite some highs and lows, this trend arguably began with an rises Interview with a Vampire in 1976, exploding again in 2005 with Twilight, creating a healthy market for scores of vampire titles. While both these trendsetters are driven by versions of the vampire myth, interview is straight up Gothic horror. Twilight is totally YA, romance. They are in essence exactly the same, only different. Bring yet another sensibility to the subject. And you could wind up creating something that isn't about vampires at all, but has enough of the same essence to pull in readers. Who grew up on twilight, but are now looking for something a little more adult. Something like that crazy bestseller, 50 Shades of Grey, which began life as Twilight fanfiction. Those familiar with both series might see some parallel between the passive female and obsessive male leads. Now I'm not suggesting you run out and consciously tried to write something exactly the same, only different, tell your story, tell it the best way you can. Sing your own kind of music, player own special song? Or did someone already say that? What I am suggesting is that when you describe not your content, but your potential market, make it look that way. To give an editor a sense that your book can be profitable. Compare it to profitable things. Research successful works similar to your own. Not only in terms of the subject, but the feeling, tone. Look up the demographic and in the query, spell out why your work will appeal to them in a sharp sentence or two. For instance, tales from the asteroid belt with its hard, fast pacing and an accent on the science and science fiction, we'll be sure to appeal to fans of such bestsellers as the Martian and state of fear. In the lecture on summaries, I talk about the high concept pitch, which takes the form of X meets Y or X as if written by y, was well-known names filling in the blanks. For instance, it's 50 Shades as if written by Stephen King, which was called Gerald's Game and came out in 1993, about two decades before 50 Shades. It's Harry Potter meets twilight, set on the playing fields of the Hunger Games. That could work. Point being the high concept, can also handle the, evoke the potential market. But it doesn't play equally well in all cases. It really has to nail the core of your book and even then can come across as clipped or flip. A subtle, a reference to our narrative voice reminiscent of scalp from To Kill a Mockingbird, for instance, can get the same idea across. There are also a few pitfalls and comparing your book too huge hits. If the market is already glided, it can become a negative. Just as scores of dystopian books appeared on shelves following the success of The Hunger Games. Scores, more queries mentioning the book were sent to editors and agents. Trends have to be hit while they're still growing, not after they've peaked. Timing is key. The second is the risk of making grandiose claims. There's a critical distinction to be made between promotion and self-praise. I often describe my YA novel Ripper, for instance, as sort of like Harry Potter, but without magic and with a serial killer. Importantly, I don't say I'm the next JK, or that refers the next Harry Potter. It would not only come across as arrogant, it's ignorant. After all, JKL had no idea she was going to be the next JK are equally important. Self-praise also falls under a recurring category. Show don't tell. Never tell an editor you're brilliant or that your book is an intriguing page turner. Show them by writing something brilliant and intriguing. Half the reason I think the Ripper comparison works is because it's a joke that points to the differences. It's kinda like Harry Potter, but really it's nothing like Harry Potter. The villain is Jack the Ripper for pity sake. Describing a nonfiction market is exactly the same. Only difference. If there are a multitude of well-known books on the same topic, the comparison to these success stories still makes sense. If you've written a new biography on Washington, for instance, you can refer to other notable Washington biographies to establish the strength of the market the same, and then point out what makes yours unique, different. If your subject is relatively new and there aren't a lot of profitable comparisons out there. The more powerful marketing argument could be the popularity of the subject itself. Drones, for instance, are popular, but there may not be many particularly successful books on their history yet. In that case, research some hard data on the popularity of drones and use it to your advantage. For instance, public interests in drones has risen to a fever pitch with Google yielding over 86 million hits. Yeah, there are a few comprehensive history is available. Drones from Da Vinci to robotics will fill that need. Let's same tactic won't work for a vampire novels since the market is saturated. But in some cases, a similar hard data argument can also be used for fiction. According to the New York Times last year, 50 million parents spent more money on rainbow paperclips than they did on childcare. The colorful carrying clip, the story of a rainbow paperclip that comes to life and cares for other people's children is sure to appeal to them and many others. Before moving on to more points, your first crucial marketing decision occurs the moment you decide where to send your query. There's no point in sending a nonfiction query to a romance publisher or an agent who deals only in science fiction. It seems obvious. But in practice, many authors thinking more is better. Mass mail, they are queries willy nilly. Doing so wastes precious reading time that an editor could have devoted to a query they might actually buy. I do recommend sending your query to as many agents and editors as possible. But reaching a lot of people is not as important as reaching the appropriate people. And finding the right people begins with your market research while composing a list of successful works that are exactly the same but different from your own. Try to find that authors editor and their agent that gives you two names with a proven interests in similar content. Digging even deeper, finding out how that book was marketed could yield valuable ideas for your own efforts. Yes, if you want your book to succeed, you will be doing some of that marketing yourself. Many beginning writers think that's the publishers responsibility. Sadly, no. As I mentioned, promotional money goes to bestsellers, not first books. These days. A lot of the promotional effort is in the author's hands. To that end, when you include a few sentences on the potential market. You're also showing that you can be a good advocate for your work and hence a little less of a risk past that editors and agents do have their own ideas about what cells. But keep in mind they read dozens of queries daily. Your marketing pitch may make a connection they'd otherwise miss. And that could be what makes your query stand out. Next up, the bio. 12. Lecture 11: Bio: As we'll see in our sample query, the etiquette portion of the query can be handled in a single sentence. So in this final lecture on query basics, I cover the buyer. The buyer, when a query is far from the full-blown resume you'd submit for a job, nor does it serve quite the same purpose. Selling yourself to an editor or agent is part of selling your work. But unless you're already famous or an expert in the subject, that's only tangentially true. Here. You're more like the supporting cast there to make the real star your content look better. Editor won't necessarily care how long you've held your last job or where you went to school. There are only interested in the parts of your experience that could influence the book's success and perhaps indicate what it would be like to work with you. Of course, it doesn't hurt if you have a charismatic engaging personality, but that should come through in your prose. So only include relevant information. If you've written a fantasy epic about talking frauds, two decades as a plumber, doesn't matter. But if you're writing about plumbing, it's pretty important. Naturally, if you've published books or articles lead with that, especially if they're related to your content, if you have a track record or better yet, a following for this sort of material. Mentioned it front and center. My previous book, please buy this sold over 100,000 copies and earn rave reviews. Importantly, if you've earned followers on social media duty or posts on similar subjects, that counts too. I've been making TikToks about the psychology of emotional pain for five years now and have 648,000 followers, many of whom I'm certain will be eager to buy. The hurt that hurts. If you're a complete beginner, focused on your passion for the content and your influences. You write from personal experience. Is the subject a lifelong love or a professional interests? I've adored flying insects since I was a child and have recently earned a PhD, is a lipid optimist. I bring every ounce of that knowledge and devotion to. So you think, you know, butterflies. Beyond that. Are you willing and able to arrange your own book signings? Can you get a blurb from a famous author? Are you wealthy enough to hire a publicist? Yeah, Some authors can do that. Firstname. Talking about ourselves can feel awkward. Sticking to the facts helps. Don't offer any self judgment, good or bad. Instead, list what you've done in plan to do, as in the marketing section, avoid any self-praise. I'm the most reliable per sino. At the same time. If someone else's praised you or your work, if you want a related award or received a rave review, consider including it. Assuming of course that the source is pertinent, not friends or family. I love this author more than anything. Mom. Interestingly, based on the work of my students, the bio also seems to provide an opportunity for self-criticism. I realize I'm just a lowly student journalists, which should also be avoided. In any case, never talk about what you haven't done. Only what you have. Ultimately, the focus of the bio depends on who you are. But whatever aspect of your experience you decide to accent. Be sure it directly connects to the real star, the content. Next up, some formatting guidelines and a look at a sample query. 13. Lecture 12: Sample Query: Having covered story basics, summaries, and the query in this lecture, I'll hopefully title together with some specific query guidelines and a sample query. While a clear structure is important, the query basics themselves aren't necessarily rigid. They can overlap depending on context. A query about a novel starring and marketing expert might be written from the perspective of the fictional character, discussing how they'd market the book, for instance. Likewise, a query about a marketing book written by a marketing expert or an exciting true life adventure could well open with the bile. But without that sort of special circumstance involved, it's generally best to keep them distinct. The next trick is to how to fit it all on one page. In terms of formatting, don't double-space or indent paragraphs, but do use a half space between paragraphs to keep things from looking like a big blob of text. Likewise, keep your paragraphs to three to five sentences. Typically begin with two to three paragraphs on the content. Market and bio each deserve their own paragraph, but can easily dovetail the last two bits of etiquette can each fit into a single sentence with your closing. Following those guidelines. Here's a full query based on our cliche romance. For those of you with smaller screens, please note that the query will be repeated during the closing credits in a larger font. Dear editor, I love you. Pat said, fiddling with the engagement ring hidden in the ice bucket. Riley, taken aback, started to respond. I I I, each stuttered repetition seemed to last and eternity Still, despite fingers increasingly numb from the ice, there remained in pat, the hope Riley's answer would warm them. What Pat doesn't realize is that the uninsured Riley has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Not only that, the charismatic Dr. has expressed their love and a willingness to treat Riley for free will, even their friendship survive. What comes next? Find out in my new page turner, maybe I like you, but I like living to combining the humor of You've got mail with a dash of spice on off 50 shades. Maybe I like you, but I like living to be sure to appeal to romance fans the world over. An avid fan of the genre, I've been posting my short fiction for two years now. I already have 648,000 loyal readers, many of whom I'm certain will be eager to buy. Maybe I like you, but I like living too. I am sending this query to select editors and agents. The manuscript has completed 80,000 words and available on request. I look forward to your apply. Yours truly. Note how each query Basic has been clearly addressed in fairly short order. Content, market, bio, availability, and competition. While nothing is written in stone and all sorts of variations might work. Following these guidelines will give you a solid query and help put your best foot forward. Next up our final lecture, redundancy. 14. Lecture 13: Redundancy: Similar versions of this lecture appear in my other courses, editing your own work and writing comics. So if you're seeing either, feel free to skip this part. Anyway. As of this 2022 recording, the last eight years, I've been teaching writing for a living online through the University of Massachusetts. And during that time I've read hundreds of queries written by students. Some amazing, some more obviously from people just starting out. Here, I want to look at what I've come to see as the biggest stumbling block for beginners and old hands alike. Not only in writing summaries, but for writing in general. That is, as you may have guessed from the title, redundancy. Here I'll discuss the three types of redundancy, how to spot them, and some situations in which redundancy can actually be useful. So I'm serious about this totally series, absolutely, totally serious. You see what I did there? Two words, I'm series would have sufficed for that matter. Why say it at all? Don't you assume I'm serious. So what is redundancy? The McMillan Online Dictionary defines it as a situation in which something is not needed, especially because the same thing or similar thing already exists. What's wrong with it? Well, as the talking heads say in psycho killer, say something once. Why say it again? Needless repetition. Not only runes flow, It's a quick way to dispel writings. Grand delusion, reminding readers that they're staring at mere words and not experiencing the world. In some reason one-page queries, they eat up space that could be put to much better use. Repetition comes naturally for most, as we write, we search for the right word or phrase. Often more than one comes to mind. And in the creative rush of a first draft, we tend to use them all. To be clear, repetition does have legitimate uses. There are times you want to remind your readers about something, for instance, or create a stylistic rhythm more on both later. But it's crucial that it'd be used consciously. Never is an abdication of effort. No redundancy is often thought of as mere word repetition, as in the famed Department of redundancy, department jump, which I once thought was from Monte Python, but is actually from fireside theater. Security will be guaranteed by your department of natural guard, but it can be more than that, operating on different levels to address them all, I split the concept into three categories. No doubt Others have had similar ideas, but I've never seen them set out in quite this way. Using alliteration to make them easier to remember if they are a core redundancy, conceptual redundancy, and contextual redundancy. Redundancy refers to basic word repetition, as in the fire sign theater joke. Core redundancy can also easily be confused with a similar issue. Overuse. The repetitive use of a word or phrase can have a similar effect and should likewise be avoided. But unlike redundancy, the information conveyed isn't a repetition. For instance, the cat was small, small, small is a redundancy. The cat was small, the dog was small, the tree was small, and the house was small, is overused. In the first case, yes, we get it. The cats small. Repetition does provide a rhythm which may be useful, but it doesn't give us anything new. But in the second case, telling us the cat was small is different from telling us the dog was small. Still hearing the same word over and over can get annoying fast. Largely because it reminds us we're looking at a word. A more efficient but less rhythmic way of saying the same thing would be the cat, dog tree in-house were all small in the short space of a one-page query. Core redundancy and overuse are easy to spot and eliminate, provided you're looking for them. In a completed work, though, ovaries can be much more difficult to weed out a particular word or phrase which may have been perfect the first time can quickly become tedious for the reader. Tracking them among the 90,000 words of a manuscript is an easy, the best way to deal with that is to keep a list of suspects, words and phrases. When you're proofing, enter them in your word processor search feature. That will not only find them, it'll count how many times you've actually used them. While core redundancies and overuse involve identical words or phrases. In a conceptual redundancy. Different words are used to describe the same thing. Ergo, the shortest decor redundancy can be is two words. In that form. They are well-known and many delightful lists of common redundancies can be found online. A few examples include cease and desist. Collaborate in groups gathered together. And absolutely essential. Conceptual redundancies can be tougher to spot, partly because they're used so often informally, they feel natural. As a result, my students will sometimes argue that some or all of these aren't redundant. But they are two Cs is to desist. You can't collaborate without a group to gather, is to bring together. And something is either essential or it's not. Meaning that if it's essential, it's already absolutely essential. Essential, non-essential. Those are the choices. Likewise, absolutely true or absolutely pregnant. It's understandable. Many sound more like a way of emphasizing something rather than repeating it. To cease and desist sounds much more important than just ceasing or assisting. The most difficult to spot though, are those that go beyond these word to word correlations. The trickier conceptual redundancies can include multiple sentences or even paragraphs, such as tears flowed freely from Martin's eyes. He was crying. Why redundant? We already know Martin's crying because of the tiers or the dog pushed its legs hard, moving as fast as it could. It was running. If the dog is pushing its legs hard, moving as fast as it can, of course it's running. That's what running is. These examples I hope are obvious, intended to get the idea across clearly. In practice, it can be much tougher. At the same time in conceptual redundancies, at least we're still dealing with words. That's not true of contextual redundancies where the information is needlessly repeated because the situation or context has already made it clear. How many of us have received e-mails that begin, I'm writing to you today. If you're writing to someone, of course you're writing. And what else would you be writing if not on the day that you're writing? Likewise, when writing a query, consider the situation. If you're contacting a fiction editor about your work. Context alone already tells them three things that you're writing. Be that you're writing about a novel and see that the novel is yours. Yet I often see queries opening with phrases like I'm writing to tell you about my fiction novel, which tells the tale. And how much of that should you keep? None. It's not only all apparent from the context. It takes a valuable space that can be used, for instance, for your content description. By the way, aside from the contextual redundancy, this example also contains two conceptual redundancies. Can you spot them? Time's up. A novel by definition, is fiction. That of course tells or one hopes, shows a tail. Since contextual redundancy doesn't involve other words, you may not consider it a redundancy at all. Even so, whether you need to cut just one more line to fit your query into a page where you want your prose to be as smooth and streamlined as possible. Or even if you want additional clarity and organizing your innermost thoughts, eliminating them can be incredibly useful. And speaking of usefulness, while I firmly believe that redundancy in all its forms is a devious obstacle to good writing. When used intentionally, it can be a powerful tool. As I said earlier, there are times when you want to remind the reader of something as I did just now, where I repeated myself to let you know that we're now returning to a previously mentioned topic. Likewise and longer works, it can be important to touch back on a plot point, especially if that point was introduced a few hundred pages back. Good thing I took the bullets out of that gun back in Cincinnati. Redundancy can also be used for dramatic effect. He's dead Jim Judd. Lastly, repetition can be used to enhance aesthetic flow. The rhythms of dialogue, or the poetics of a descriptive passage. Take this example from the bells by Edgar Allan Poe, which repeats time and bells to great effect. All the heavens seem to twinkle with a crystalline delight, keeping time, time, time in his sort of runic rhyme to the Tintin tabulation that so musically wells from the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, from the jingling and the tingling of the bells. Here, the repetition of bells conveys and conjures the sound itself. The point again is to use it consciously. And the only way to do that is to scour your writing. For any of the three forms of redundancy. If you find one you wanna keep, make sure you have a great ironclad reason, otherwise deleted ruthlessly. And there you have it. I hope these lectures prove useful to you. Feel free to post your own query efforts as well as any questions. And thanks for watching.