What Makes for a Good In-Person Promotion? (Authors)
Apr 22, 2018 05:45 PM
| Writing
Have any other authors out there ever been invited to or
heard about an author event somewhere within driving distance, which boasts
there will be five, ten, maybe twenty authors at an indie bookstore or some such
place, so you signed up. You watched as the event posted dozens of times on Facebook,
you shared all the posts with your own followers (as if they didn’t have your
books already) you loaded up your book stock, drove over, and then spent most
of the day chatting with other authors while everyone collectively sold an
average of half a book per person?
I’ve only published one book (although I have two new novelettes coming in May), and I still have lots to learn
about book promoting, but I’ve tried a lot in the way of live appearances. I’ve
self organized book signings at book stores and once in a coffee shop, I’ve
participated in a small bookstore’s “author day” with several authors. I’ve
been to a special author event featuring more than 50 authors in the fourth
largest city in the country, and yet in my experience, as an essentially unknown
author, results have been less-than-encouraging.
Now, maybe you’re thinking, I don’t have the personality to
generate interest and sales, that I’m too introverted, not engaging people.
However, I’ve also tried my hand at pop-culture events such as comic-cons,
places most attendees aren’t coming to find authors and books, and at some of these
events, I’ve sold boxes of my novel. I’d even go as far as to say that I can
turn about one in five people who slow down long enough to be spoken to into a
sale at such events - not a bad batting average in my opinion.
So I have to ask, why do I have such poor results with book
events, and so much better results at events where books are at best one small
part of a much bigger focus on pop-culture and entertainment? Is it simply a
number’s game? Perhaps. The author event with 50 of us word crafters only drew
in 300 people, even in a huge city, while a comic-con, in a city less than half
the size can pull in 30,000. Is success dependent merely on the quantity of foot
traffic?
My intuition leads me to think the attendees of a specific
book event come ready to purchase several books, while most the comic-con-goers,
as I mentioned before, weren’t even expecting to see authors peddling their
works when they showed up in their costumes. I suppose you can’t account for
the quality of the product, at least not until you go buy and read my novel
(wink, wink) but I wonder if the issue is more one of how routine and avid
readers behave in the first place?
Reading is more solitary and less flashing than the other
kinds of entertainment out there. Is merely speaking to authors and seeing a
bunch of them sitting around waiting to sign books not enough of an event to
get readers out of the house? Do we need to start including live bands,
acrobats, or celebrities in our author gatherings in order to elevate them to
event status?
Another difference maker I’ve noticed is that at comic-con
sort of events I’m usually able to sit in on or host some sort of short
discussion or panel. I get to stand in front of a few people and talk, either
about my material or about general genre topics. This activity has translated
to a handful of readers heading over to find me and buy my book afterwards.
However, I’ve also gone to a huge book festival which held a tight schedule of
15 minute talks by authors in blocks of four hours straight over the entire
weekend, and then watched as one after the other authors stood and gave talks
to a dozen empty chairs, or maybe to eleven empty chairs and the next author in
line who was waiting their turn.
So I ask, what makes for a good live appearance? Is it a
must that some other, crowd-drawing activity be included? Is it a must that we
authors are given time to speak, at least in panels? Does every author event
simply need big name author signings, so we lesser-known authors can hope to
draw a few sales as the under-card? Or is it out of our hands, where how the
event promotes itself is the real difference?
Comments
Classic Book Review: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Given the reach and influence The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has had into pop culture, along with the admiration many of my friends have had for the series since we were young teens, I expected this book to be well suited to my taste and a pleasure to read. Unfortunately, perhaps my expectations were too high.
While there were a few gems of imagination and pure oddity which rightfully belong in the larger pop-culture and literary canon of references, there were so many details which were weird, seemingly just for the sake of being weird, that the actual plot was drug to a glacial pace.
Furthermore, I found that the non-sequiturs humor, which I admit is perfectly in line with many great works of entertainment from the same era of UK humor, rarely landed for me, and again the jokes were so numerous they proved a huge distraction from the plot. One caveat I'll add, however, is that I can see where I might have found the rambling humor and saturation of visual oddity, a bit more appealing if I were 13 years old.
I had planned to read the entire series, and in fact, I bought all five books, but now I'm don't feel what I got out of this book warrants putting its successors at the top of my reading list.
While there were a few gems of imagination and pure oddity which rightfully belong in the larger pop-culture and literary canon of references, there were so many details which were weird, seemingly just for the sake of being weird, that the actual plot was drug to a glacial pace.
Furthermore, I found that the non-sequiturs humor, which I admit is perfectly in line with many great works of entertainment from the same era of UK humor, rarely landed for me, and again the jokes were so numerous they proved a huge distraction from the plot. One caveat I'll add, however, is that I can see where I might have found the rambling humor and saturation of visual oddity, a bit more appealing if I were 13 years old.
I had planned to read the entire series, and in fact, I bought all five books, but now I'm don't feel what I got out of this book warrants putting its successors at the top of my reading list.
How Long Did It Take You to Write?
Sep 27, 2016 09:27 AM
| Writing
Though my first novel has been out for only a year, I’ve already noticed there are a few questions that seem to arise over and over again from the prospective readers I meet while promoting the book. “Where’d you get the idea?” “Is it a series?” “Where is it set?” All are straightforward questions which are easy enough to answer. I believe, going forward as an author, I should expect to answer those same questions every time I step out into the world intending to push my stories onto the public. But then there’s another frequent question: “How long did it take you to write,” which isn’t quite so straightforward to answer. If you’re an author, is this one you hear often?
It’s not that I can’t remember when I first sat down and opened that new Word file which would become my manuscript, or that I can’t calculate the length of time between then and when the book came out. That’s simple. The difficulty in answering is in the implication the question gives of the asker. It is almost certain that they have an idea they’ve been harboring for their own novel, but have actually written little or nothing of it, and they’re trying to gain perspective on the work ahead of them if they move forward with it. Like a person standing at the bottom of a big hill, shouting to another who’s standing on top: “How far is it up?”
Knowing that a mountain of work lies ahead when one undertakes writing a novel, I feel obligated not to mislead a prospective writer, nor do I want to dissuade them. Writing a novel is likely to be measured in months and years, not days and weeks. On top of that, for a first time author, after they’ve finished they’ll likely spend more months, if not over a year hunting for a publisher, and should they find one, their publisher will likely spend months, if not a year, preparing the material and the book’s marketing before it is finally released.
That said, not all months are created equal. One author might spend 18 months writing their novel, but still be working a day-job at the same time, while another author might spend 6 months writing their novel, working on the book full-time. Sometimes the writing process involves waiting time. An author might finish a draft and have to put it down for a few weeks, or a few months, to return to it with fresh eyes. An author might also be using the services of an editor or a critiquing group between drafts, and be subject to weeks or a month, waiting for those notes, before digging in on the next draft.
I am personally working away on my next novel, with the intent of working on it full-time, but I find that having another book already out means organizing and traveling to personal appearances every few weeks, interviews, blogging and keeping up with social media to cultivate my audience, plus reading and reviewing fellow authors, which all take time. Thus, even full-time writing only allows for a part-time schedule of actually composing the words on the pages of my next manuscript. All of this makes telling that eager but inexperienced writer “a year,” “eighteen months,” “two years,” at best incomplete answers.
“How long did it take you to write?” Recently, I’ve stumbled on a relatively simple way to answer which fellow authors might find helpful to respond effectively, and which might truly impart accurate perspective to the asker. Measure the effort in hours.
I spent about 1,500 hours on my first novel, from page one of my first draft through the end of the polished manuscript that actually found me a publisher. (Though that is not the end of the process, mind you.)
Of course every author and every project are different, but now the prospective author can calculate a realistic approximation. If they can spend 40 hours a week on their manuscript, they might expect about 8 or 9 months for writing a novel similar in length to mine. If they can spend 50 or 60 hours a week, they might cut that down. If they work full-time elsewhere and raise a family, and can only spare 10 hours a week, they might realistically expect the project to take 3 years. In any case, hopefully the process will streamline with successive books.
To all you prospective authors, it’s a lot of work. I hope this helps. Good luck.
To all you established authors, how do you answer this question?
Originally Posted on "Marilyn's Musings" blog, March, 2015.
The Seed of a Story
Sep 15, 2016 09:21 AM
| Originality, Story Idea, Writing
It’s a none-to-uncommon
question for authors, “where did you get the idea for your book?” But it’s not
always an easy question to answer. I wonder if we can do a little better?
For me, I have many
ideas swimming around in my head. Sometimes it’s a character, but I’m not sure
where I’ll use them. Other times it’s a setting, a plot twist, or just a moment
of intensity all without corresponding context. Once in a while, with a little
luck, a bunch of these ideas come together and form something bigger, a
foundation. Who’s to say which of that cluster was first, or even where it came
from?
With my recently
released novel, “Until the Sun Rises – One Night in Drake Mansion,” I similarly
can’t put my figure on any single element as having spawned the rest of my
tangled web. However, I can recall the
very first scene from the story I began developing.
The majority of the
novel is set in the present, but a portion takes place in the past. The first
past section involves a mysterious, secret, and very thematically dark magic
show which adds to the mystery set in the present with a parallel mystery to
unfold in the past. Essentially, it’s a tangential story line, a secondary
mystery that draws the reader to learn about certain characters pertaining to
the primary mystery and plot. It adds character depth, intrigue, and plot
layers. Of course the two plotlines intersect explosively, but it’s interesting
in retrospect for the secondary plotline to have been the genesis of the main
story, converse to what one might expect.
This magic show
moment and its characters were first. From there, I created scenes to give
readers background on the characters, to get you acquainted. Next, I developed
plot that puts the characters into that moment. After that, I developed
additional scenes to give that moment direct consequence, and more to show
readers what those characters do after that moment, how it impacted them. With this thread woven, I stepped back and
asked, “how can I make this even deeper, even more consequential, intriguing,
captivating?” The answer came with adding what eventually became the primary
plotline, which underwent it’s own similar development.
Returning to the
question, “where did you get the idea?” It feels like I just had that first
moment in my head. Did I see a weird magic show that made it dawn on me? Not
that I recall? Did I base the characters on something I saw, read, or heard? I
don’t think so. In fact, I believe I invented the scene and the character
specifically because I’d never seen anything like that scene before. The rest
was created to give others a chance to find it as interesting as I did.
Perhaps in the future
I’ll read an article and it will directly inspire a new story. Certainly that
occurs with non-fiction, and I can imagine the same for fiction - where a real
life story inspires a similar, but even more intriguing scenario. That just
hasn’t been my experience. In the mean time, perhaps a better go-to question
for authors is, “what part of your story did you explore first?” This might cut
to the desired incite into the creative process even faster.
Authors, what part of
your story did you explore first?
Originally Posted at the "Omni Mystery Blog," June, 2015.My First Vonnegut Experience, Though Likely Not My Last.
I've always been familiar with Vonnegut's name but not particularly versed in his material. I'd seen the movie based on his novel Mother Night, but outside of knowing a few titles, seeing his cameo in Back to School, and of course his connection with the University of Iowa, that was the extent of my familiarity. However, recently I'd encountered an intriguing, simple and playful, yet deep quote from Cat's Cradle. I felt it was time I gave Vonnegut a read and I was not disappointed.
The voice with which the book is authored is often playful, lighthearted, and downright fun, but the story itself bare quite biting criticism of many of society's driving forces - government and religion to name a few. Vonnegut eases into his opinions backhandedly and with an essentially neutral protagonist who is merely a victim of happenstance, landing readers on yet another drawback of such institutions before you know it.
The story of the book, my personal litmus test, starts with a very average seeming Joe. He's a writer and I suspect not-so-dissimilar to Vonnegut himself, conducting research for a novel. Along the way he encounters other seemingly unimportant characters, though by the end the narrator and almost every character along the way end up playing a role in what is essentially the end of the world. A master class is "raising the stakes" if every there was one. Undoubtedly Vonnegut's criticisms would not have been so palatable without the playful and surprising vehicle of this intriguing plot.
My only woe with Cat Cradle is that I didn't read it sooner.
The voice with which the book is authored is often playful, lighthearted, and downright fun, but the story itself bare quite biting criticism of many of society's driving forces - government and religion to name a few. Vonnegut eases into his opinions backhandedly and with an essentially neutral protagonist who is merely a victim of happenstance, landing readers on yet another drawback of such institutions before you know it.
The story of the book, my personal litmus test, starts with a very average seeming Joe. He's a writer and I suspect not-so-dissimilar to Vonnegut himself, conducting research for a novel. Along the way he encounters other seemingly unimportant characters, though by the end the narrator and almost every character along the way end up playing a role in what is essentially the end of the world. A master class is "raising the stakes" if every there was one. Undoubtedly Vonnegut's criticisms would not have been so palatable without the playful and surprising vehicle of this intriguing plot.
My only woe with Cat Cradle is that I didn't read it sooner.
"The Book Was Better” Part 2
May 26, 2015 02:16 PM
| Adaptation, Screen vs. Page, Writing
Regarding the prevailing attitude toward movie adaptations of books, I will contend that books are not gospel. (In the non-religious definition of the word.)
Many choose to, or unwittingly, take the stance that a story
in novel form is the absolute embodiment of an author’s ideas, and therefore
anything else imparting that story, which differs in the slightest, is
inherently wrong. I believe this is at the root of criticism for novel
adaptations. I also believe this is mistaken and I assert the book is not
gospel.
As a screenwriter, one quickly learns your writing is
anything but absolute. Directors will ignore and change details, actors will
change lines, intentionally and accidentally, and that’s just the start of the
compromises between your vision and the resulting movie. A screenwriter’s
material is not gospel; it’s one interpretation of many. However, if it has a compelling
story and a deep emotional draw, all those people’s changes will be made in the
interest of telling the story well, even if they aren’t telling it the way you did.
This is the best for which a screenwriter can hope – that all the compromises
and changes made to your original work are done so in order to tell the story
well. This is a notion everyone needs to bring to books.
Having also written a novel, I can see the book is not the
100% embodiment of my story either. In my mind, the settings are so vivid I
could spend pages and pages describing each one, but that wouldn’t make for a
good read, so I cut it down to only what you need to know to get the feel, or
what elements of the setting will interact with characters, then I move
on. In my mind, I have elaborate back-stories
for every character, even those with only brief appearances. Again, interesting
to me, I could write pages and pages on them, but again not interesting if it
doesn’t affect the core story, so alas they’re largely omitted from the novel.
In my mind, I have lengths of story before the point in time
at which my plot begins as well as after the novel’s plot concludes. Again, the
book must have limitation in order to be a tight, moving, and engaging story,
so those elements get trimmed, though many writers may save them for sequels
and prequels. I suspect we’ve all begun books, which insufficiently trimmed
such excess and tangents, though fewer of us have finished said books.
To me, all this is what makes it exciting to talk with, and
ask questions to writers we love. If everything they possibly imagined was in
their book, there would be no need or interest in asking them about their work,
it would all be in the book. But the author cuts their internal story down to
only the richest element. When you love a detail or character, you ask the
author about it and they have much more information from the story in their
mind to share, and it’s wonderful.
Thus, I maintain that the book, in itself is a derivative of
a story. The only 100% accurate version of the story exits is the author’s
mind, and will only ever exist there. The book is a derivative of that story, a
trimmed, edited, and compromised output meant to streamline the story, to make a
derived version which is the most enjoyable for reading.
Many movies adapted from books are accused of doing the same
- trimming, adjusting, streamlining, and leaving out plot and details in order to
tailor the story into one, compact, and well-flowing movie. I pose this is just
another version of what has already taken place between the author’s mind and
the book, and is no more or less valid.
The format of a book being enjoyable to read requires this shaping, and
the format of a movie being enjoyable to watch also requires it.
I’ll go a step further. If the author’s story only exits in
its entirety within the authors mind, and that which reaches the pages of a
book is a derivative of that story, what reaches the readers mind is not even
that derivative. For much of what an author omits, be it back story or
descriptive details, we the readers fill back in from our own imaginations and
experiences. If an author chooses not to
elaborately describe a mundane waiting room, because it doesn’t serve the
story, we readers impose a vision comprised of all the mundane waiting rooms
we’ve sat in.
Even the author cannot account for all the details we
readers create for the story. The author can only hope to generally guide them.
Thus, the story that reaches the readers mind is in turn a derivative of the
story in the book, or (for those also versed in mathematics as I am) a second
derivative of the author’s story. This is why it is also enjoyable to discuss books
with fellow readers, to compare how the story is perceived given each
individual’s unique profile of added details and inherently differing second
derivative versions of the story.
This however poses another impossibility for adapted movies,
for we cannot compare a movie to an author’s internal story, nor can we
actually compare the movie to the story in a book. We can only compare a movie
to the second derivative story in our minds, which is unique to only us, yet we
expect the movie to live up to our vision.
The movie is also a second derivative. Derived from the
book, derived from the story in the author’s mind. Besides being tailored to fit the medium of
movies the best, the story’s ambiguous details now get filled in by the actors,
director, wardrobe designer, set builders, computer artists, and any number of
people involved with a movie’s production. Wherever these details come from,
they are certain not to match the details in any given reader’s mind.
These might even come from the original author. The movie
could go back to the author, ask him/her questions about all the details the
author left out, or consult interviews or other writings the author composed referring
to their original ideas, and then build the movie’s version of the story with
those details. In such a case, one could argue the movie’s version of certain
aspects of the story might be more closely accurate to the author’s story than
is any given reader’s version.
Whatever the case, between the author’s internal version of
the story, the book’s version, each reader’s version, and the movie version, one
certainty is that no two versions will be the same. Rather than dwell on how different
those differences are we should embrace those differences and relish comparing
them, just like we might relish comparing thoughts with a fellow reader. Most
importantly, I ask you to consider that the book is in no way necessarily more
or less correct than any other version.
The book is not gospel; it’s one interpretation of many.
Once you’ve accepted it, the enjoyment comes from understanding what has created
the differences…
"The Book Was Better" Part 1
May 06, 2015 12:17 PM
| Adaptation, Screen vs. Page, Writing
So many movies released these days are derivative of other materials:
comic books, video games, and most often from books. Whenever movies adapted from books are
released there’s an immediate wave, both in public reviews and personal exchanges,
assenting that “the book was better.” In this, and the coming series of posts,
I’ll analyze the pitfalls of this comparison, take a deeper look at the nature
of both formats of storytelling, suggest a better way of thinking, and note
some methodology for future adaptations.
I can’t and won’t defend every movie based on a book which
disappoints. There are bad movies, both adapted and originals, just as sure as
there are bad books that somehow get made into movies. However, as a writer of
both novels and screenplays, familiar with the movie making process, I can
offer a unique perspective.
I often see how what might be viewed as “missing” or
“changed” by the book lover watching the movie, would have been very difficult
and even more detrimental to include in the movie simply because of what movies
can and cannot do well. As a result, I typically
enjoy both the movie and the book, relishing the differences, rather than
dwelling on them. With that in mind, I believe an adjustment to the way most
people think regarding this comparison of media could bring a lot more pleasure
and less aggravation to dual-media experience.
My first issue with comparing books and adapted movies is
what typically carries over between the two. What elements from your first
experience with the story, be it movie or book, carry over into your experience
with the second?
A case study:
One of my favorite books is “The Eiger Sanction” by
Trevanian. A favorite of my father’s which he introduced me to. It was
published well before I was born, and years later (though still before I was
born) a movie based on the book was made. It was directed by and starred Clint
Eastwood, one of his early directorial efforts. I remember seeing the movie
when I was very young and really enjoying it. I thought I understood why my
father liked the book so much. However, at the time of the movie’s release it
was shunned by many critics as “lacking the sophistication of the book’s
character,” among other dismal comparisons to its root material.
It would be years later before I was old enough to actually
read the novel myself. While I then found there was indeed much more to this
story, character depth, subplot, etc., it didn’t make me hate the movie or
change my opinion of it. I just enjoyed
the book too, for what it offered different from the movie. I did notice however,
that certain elements of the movie carried over into my enjoyment of the book.
In this particular example, a large part of the movie takes
place while climbing a specific mountain in the Alps. The movie was filled with
beautiful shots of this mountain range. Many parts of the book occur while
mountain climbing, including the action filled climax, and all these were
really filmed on that spectacular mountain. The setting was stunning, and the
notion of all these intense scenes and conversations happening while the
characters are doing complex and dangerous climbing activities was incredibly
consuming. In the book, good as it is,
Trevanian could not do justice to this mountain setting. That’s not a
criticism, he just couldn’t pause the story to spend pages and pages detailing
these impressive, towering monsters, and while he supplied enough technical
climbing details for readers to understand the complexity, the film has the
ability to stream the ever-present difficulty and danger, without pausing the
dialog or action for a single moment.
These were the elements I brought over in my mind from the
movie to the book. When Trevanian touched on the setting, I filled in the rest
with the visuals from the movie, something a reader who hadn’t seen the movie
could only do if they’d been to the Alps. Similarly, the duality of the plot
and the separate action of climbing was always in my mind through the book,
though Trevanian had to alternate between the two, again carried from the
movie.
In short, the unique details of the movie carried over into
my mind while experiencing the book, enhancing it, while so many who read the
book first, saw only what the movie could not, or did not do. In general, very
few readers it seems will bring those book details into the theater with them
the way that the movie details came with me to the book.
When you read a book and find wonderfully deep characters,
each with backstories, great little subplots, and you watch an adapted movie
only to find all these elements have been omitted, shortened, or changed almost
beyond recognition, you see only that something is missing. However, when you
watch a movie, and see beautiful full settings and hear voices and see faces,
if you then go read the book, often you don’t complain that the setting
description is short changed, or the description of characters looks and voices
are under explained. Often we just carry
the movie detail over and let it shape the book we read, as we’re reading it.
Another battle movies must face is competing with ideas that
are only in a reader’s mind. There are many cases when an author, in interest
of keeping a story moving, must keep description brief. You don’t want to spend pages describing a
room only to have a few lines of dialog and move to another location. So you
give two sentences describing the room and move on, but two sentences doesn’t
complete an entire room so we readers fill in the rest, filling in with details
of our own choosing, and details of similar rooms we’ve been in. This makes
books fun for our imaginations, but then pits movies against ideas that exist
only in our minds, ideas not even the author of the book can fully account for.
As a writer of books, of course I don’t want people to wait
to buy my book until after a movie is made of it, in order to watch the movie
first and read the book second. No one will make a movie of a book that no one
is reading, waiting for a movie instead. However, I do think we readers and
viewers can enjoy both versions of a particular work, even when they might
differ greatly, if we think of things a little differently and amend our expectations,
and I’ll tell you how…in my next few posts.
Can a Story Ever Truely Be Told?
Feb 03, 2015 10:35 AM
| Writing
I’m truly a believer in lifelong learning, that no matter
how much you know, or think you know, you’re learning everyday. With my first
novel on its way in a couple months, I am well aware that I have a great deal
of learning to do when it comes to writing.
That said, as I’ve gone from the story in my mind, to my
first draft, through revisions, and finally to that final draft set to print,
I’ve had to learn a few lessons and had to make some shifts in my thinking to
get me there. Thoughts that might be useful to writers out there now, with
their stories in their minds, with first chapters written or even first drafts,
who are struggling with where to go next.
One such lesson, or shift in thought that I had to make, was
to let go of the notion that the story in my mind will be the story in a
reader’s mind when I am done and the book is out. I’ve come to understand that
this will not be the case, and in fact could never be the case. Was I to describe every detail of setting,
every detail of a character’s appearance, every thought each character has, and
all the backstory each character carries, I suspect I wouldn’t live long enough
to finish even one story. Thus, we as writers streamline the details to what we
feel is most important for our readers to experience, and what best serves our
plot. Everything else, everything we omit from the vision in our mind, then
becomes open to interpretation by the reader.
The story that reaches the page is only an approximation of
the story in an author’s mind, and from those words, a brand new story is
created in the mind of each reader. Their story is unique from any other
reader’s and twice removed from the original thoughts. Can a story ever truly
be told? I would submit that the answer is no. Only an approximation of the
story can be told.
Some of this might seem obvious, but acknowledging it
becomes particularly important when rewriting and refining your work. After a
writer has their first draft, it can seem like cutting a part of yourself, to
undergo editing pieces of your story away.
But, in almost all cases, it is necessary to do so in order to make your
writing the best it can be – in order to create a work that is dense with captivating
content, even when that means cutting vivid details, thoughts, emotions and yes
even sometime plot.
The story in your mind will always be far greater than the
story that fits into your book. You’ll always have plot that leads up to the
beginning of your novel, plot that continues after your novel, backstories for
characters that don’t effect this specific plot line enough to warrant inclusion,
details of settings that were simply too elaborate to include while maintaining
the speed of your plot through your book.
What reaches the page will always be merely an approximation
of your story. Accepting this allows you to understand that cutting the book
doesn’t change your story; it only changes the approximation of your story that
the book holds. Thus, rather than aim to tell your story on the page, you must
aim to create the best reader experience of your story that you can. Creating a
better reader experience only stands to improve your readership and allow you
to continue to tell stories.
Besides that, there’s other good news. For if you could get
every detail of the story onto the page, you the writer would then be useless
to the story. The story would exist, and you would no longer matter. However,
as it is, when you hold so much more story in your mind, you always have more
to offer to those who care to dig further.
When fans seek you out to answer questions they have from your book, you
have a great deal of additional information to provide - more details, more experiences,
more side stories, more background, and maybe even more novels.
* Note, the examples and descriptions of this essay reflect the creation process for a novel, however many of the same ideas could be applied to a short story, a poem, a song, a painting, or any other narrative from of expression. Speaking to one scenario only serves to keep the thought concise.