Tag Archives: editing

Friday Musings: Checking In and Sharing a Song From Alex

Summer is speeding by, and I have been terribly remiss in keeping up with my blog. For those who have reached out to me in recent weeks, asking if I am okay, the short answer is, “Yes, I am.” I won’t claim to be wondrously fantastic, because you wouldn’t believe me if I did. But I am well.

Our new house continues to feel more and more like home. The house itself is pretty much where we would like it to be at this point. A few more doors, door frames, and window frames need painting, but that can wait for cooler weather. We have found a couple of pieces of furniture to fill gaps in the three-season room on the back of the house, and we now have outdoor furniture for the backyard patio. All we need now is a fire pit for the fall. The yard looks great — Nancy has been planting and transplanting and weeding, and I have been keeping the grass under control with my new (used) standing mower. (If you don’t know what a standing mower is, look them up. This thing actually makes cutting the lawn sort of fun.)

We have a large flock of Wild Turkeys that walks through the yard a couple of times each day. How large? Five hens and twenty-two growing chicks. The young were adorable when they were little fuzzballs. Now they’re bigger, more awkward — like adolescents — but still dependent on their moms. Apparently it really does take a village… We also have a White-tailed doe and two fawns who show up most evenings while we’re eating dinner in the back room. And there is a young buck, with velvet still on his antlers, who appears to be shadowing them. Add to that our hummingbird family, the Indigo Buntings and Chipping Sparrows, and our local Cooper’s hawk, and we have a nice selection of wildlife paying us visits on a daily basis.

I have recently finished reading slush for the Skulls X Bones anthology I am editing with Joshua Palmatier for release from Zombies Need Brains. Soon, we will be making our final choices of which stories to include and will begin the actual editing of the manuscripts. And already I am working on my next editing project, which will be for Falstaff Books with the fabulous Sarah J. Sover. More details to come.

RADIANTS, by David B. Coe (Jacket art by Belle Books)As for writing, I have still not done much at all. But that might be changing soon. There are a lot of moving parts to this development, and nothing is set in stone yet, but for fans of the Radiants books, who have wondered if I ever planned to go back to those stories, stay tuned . . . . Yes, I know that I have promised a return to the Thieftaker universe as well, not to mention a reissue of Winds of the Forelands, which I have had on the back burner for years now. Those will be coming eventually as well. I am slowly working my way back into a writing mindset. I would ask for your patience, as I continue to heal and find my emotional footing again.

Nancy and I have been out to see Erin in Colorado, and will be seeing her again before too long. We have plans for multiple trips later this summer and into the fall, and are also looking forward to welcoming some guests to our home.

Other than that, life has been sailing along. We see family and friends. We watch our favorite shows and listen to music. We cook fun foods and taste new whiskeys. I have been playing music as well, polishing long-neglected guitar skills and trying to retrain my voice.

Alex, of course, is a constant presence in my thoughts. I am learning to live with my grief, to honor her memory in ways that do justice to the loss while also allowing me to function and breathe and be thankful for all that we still have in our lives. At the risk of misspeaking for Nancy and Erin, I believe it is a journey for all of us. There’s no real end point. It is just the reality of our world now, and always will be. Not long ago, I shared a song with my guitar buddy and dear, dear friend, Alan Goldberg. It was a tune I first heard on a mix CD Alex made for me when she was in high school, a tune I hadn’t listened to in several years, since well before her death. I knew he would love the song, but I was also afraid to play it for him. I didn’t know how I would feel upon hearing it again.

I needn’t have worried. It brought a smile. It made me feel close to her, thankful for this tiny gift she had given me — one gift among so, so many. Did it make me miss her? Of course, but it’s not like I need help in that regard. And the sweet memories that came with the melody were a balm.

Here is the song. Enjoy your weekend. Hug those you love.

Monday Musings: Nesting (Redux) and Writing

Back in early January, with snow falling on our bare trees and the brisk cold of a northeastern winter defining our days, I wrote a post for this blog about “Nesting.” The title referred to what Nancy and I had been doing around the house — unpacking, finding places for our stuff, making improvements to the new house.

That process has continued in the months since. While we have also done other stuff — editing, music, birding, and other pursuits on my part; weaving, knitting, and getting her last academic paper published on Nancy’s part — we (mostly Nancy) have still been working on the house. My hands are not (and never have been) steady enough to paint the trim around the interior of the house, so Nancy has carried the bulk of that burden. And with the onset of spring, my multi-talented spouse has also been planning her approach to landscaping our new yard. And I have done more unpacking and have been slowly hanging our art around the house.

I posted a couple of photos of the new place back in January, but wanted to follow up with a few more today.Interior of house Interior of houseInterior of new house. Front exterior of house. View of yard.

And I wanted to say a few things about this blog, which I seem to be struggling to keep up with consistently. I am trying. Truly. A lot of the time, though, I just don’t want to write. It really is as simple as that. Most days, I wake up, confront the newest atrocity committed by this hateful, cruel, criminally incompetent Administration, and am torn between wanting to write yet another outraged screed and wanting to ignore politics altogether. I don’t want this blog to become nothing more than a nonstop critique of all the current occupant of the White House is doing to undermine the strength of our republic. But I also don’t want to post about birds or baseball or our latest favorite series on Netflix when the country is burning down. And so I go for weeks without posting at all, which isn’t an answer either.

This is actually symptomatic of a larger problem. I’m not writing much of anything — not blog posts, and not fiction. I did some fiction writing early last year, when I was hired to write something in someone else’s world. But the truth is, I haven’t written a word of fiction that was really my own since we lost Alex back in October 2023. Will I write again? I hope so. That’s all I can say for certain. I want to write again. But I don’t want to write now, and I feel that I owe it to myself to take this time to continue healing. I have no idea how long this feeling will last. A month? A year? A decade? Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. All I know is, I need to take care of myself.

Because I AM healing. I’m doing better in most ways than I was a year ago, and far better than I was a year and half ago, when the grief was fresh and I thought it would never ease.

Watching the house come together has been good for me. Watching spring touch our little slice of the Hudson Valley has been lovely. Trees are blooming. Flowerbeds are revealing themselves. We moved in late in November, so the arrival of warmer weather has been a revelation for us.

I saw Erin in March. I will see her again in May. And then June. And then maybe later in the summer. And then . . . soon after that. Being with her is a balm for both Nancy and me. And so is Nancy and my time together. The love tying our family together remains strong, and in many ways missing Alex, loving her, grieving her, has become one more unbreakable filament binding us to one another.

So we nest. We heal. We love. And we continue to ask your patience and support.

Have a wonderful week.

Tuesday Musings: What Makes An Effective Villain?

I love villains. I love writing them. I love reading them. I love seeing them brought to life on big screen and small.

Well, let me modify that. I love villains in fiction and movies and television shows. I can’t stand real-life villains. (In the interest of keeping things civil, I won’t name any of the real-life villains I have in mind, even the one whose name rhymes with Peon Husk.) But a good fictional villain can make even the most mundane of stories shine. And a boring or ineffective villain can ruin an otherwise effective narrative. Over the years, as a reader, teacher, and editor, I have seen many beginning writers undermine their stories by making the same mistakes in the development of their antagonists.

"The Witch's Storm," by D. B. Jackson (Jacket art by Chris McGrath)What qualities make a villain compelling? I intend to dive into that. Who are some of my favorite villains? I’ll get into that, too. But let me offer a few quick points up front. I don’t think much of the all-powerful-evil-through-and-through villains one often encounters in the fantasy genre. Sauron, for instance — the evil god whose world-conquering designs lie at the heart of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings — is, to my mind, a very boring villain. He’s really powerful, and he’s really, really evil. And yes, he’s cunning, which is a point in his favor, and he’s scary (or his minions are). But beyond that, and unless one has gone back and read all his backstory in The Silmarillion, there isn’t really much to him. He lacks dimension and complexity.

So, let’s begin there. In my opinion (and yes, ALL of this is just my opinion), villains should be complex. There should be more to them than mere evil. Their backstory should contain the seeds of their villainy and the twisting of their world-view. Because let’s face it, most of the villains we encounter and create do some pretty messed up things in pursuit of their agendas. They’re not all there sanity-wise. But how they wound up there ought to be an interesting tale in and of itself. And the fact that their actions are working at cross purposes with those of our protagonists should not mean they can’t have some normality and even joy in their lives. They can and should have people and things that they love. They should be relatable for our readers. One of my very favorite villains is Brandan of Ygrath, the emperor-sorcerer who is the villain of Guy Gavriel Kay’s Tigana. He is charming, brilliant, loving with those he cares about, handsome, refined. He is also ruthless, merciless, temperamental, and unpredictable. He does horrible, cruel, vicious things for reasons that are both understandable and insufficient. He is nearly as easy to like as he is easy to hate.

Too often, I see young authors make their villains unintelligent and unsubtle. They give their villains lots of power, but then undermine that power by making their machinations transparent. Villains, I believe, need to be canny, keen of mind, creative. Their schemes should be the stuff of genius. Remember the old Adam West Batman series? I used to watch it after school when I was little. Invariably, Batman’s foes would leave him in a situation where he wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon. They were sure of it. So they didn’t need to wait around to make sure. They could leave, and eventually, the pendulum on the giant clock with the medieval axehead attached to it would cleave the masked crusader in two! And, of course, their premature departure gave Batman and the Boy Wonder the opportunity they needed to escape their less-than-certain deaths. Stupid villains were entertaining and convenient when we were kids watching bad TV. But for more sophisticated fiction, stupid villains will ruin a good tale.

Think of it this way: Assuming that our protagonist eventually manages to overcome the villain in our story, the power AND intelligence AND shrewdness of the bad guy reflect well on our good guy. The easier the villain is to defeat, the less challenging their plot against the world, the less impressive our hero appears when they prevail. When we build up our villain, when we make them really smart and really cunning, our hero’s victory becomes that much more of an achievement. Consider it narrative mathematics.

TIME'S DEMON, by D.B. Jackson Art by Jan Weßbecher.Some of my favorite villains from my own work? Quinnel Orzili from the Islevale Cycle (Time’s Children, Time’s Demon, Time’s Assassin), Saorla from the second and third books in The Case Files of Justis Fearsson, and, my absolute favorite, Sephira Pryce from the Thieftaker books. Yes, she later become something other than a pure villain, but that was basically because she became SO much fun to write that I had to find a way to keep her around and relevant.

His Father's Eyes, by David B. CoeMy favorite villains in the work of others? I already mentioned Brandan of Ygrath. John Rainbird, from Stephen King’s masterpiece, Firestarter, is a terrific villain. Smart, brutal, and yet also human. In Catie Murphy’s marvelous Negotiator trilogy there are two supernatural “bad guys,” Daisani and Janx, whose personal rivalry threatens the fabric of the mortal world. Their mutual animus and their own needs and desires humanize them and make them terrific foils for Magrit Knight, the series’ protagonist. And I would add that a certain writer I care not to mention in light of recent revelations has created some truly amazing villains. Too bad he wound up being a villain worthy of his own undeniable storytelling talents.

So, make your villains relatable, make them canny and dangerous and terrifying, and make their eventual defeat a true achievement for your protagonist. And try not to be villainous yourself.

Advice for this week. Cheers!!

New Year’s Musings: Good To Be Back

The keyboard feels strange beneath my fingers. That’s how long it’s been. My typing is rusty — typos come with almost every word. But I am writing. Something, anything. I am writing. Again, finally.

It’s been two months since I wrote so much as a blog entry. I haven’t written a word of fiction since the earliest days of April. I haven’t started a book that was entirely my own (as opposed to tie-in/work-for-hire) in way more than a year. For a long time now, I have wondered if I am still a writer, or have become someone who used to write. On that last, I suppose, time will tell.

But for now, I am writing this, and I thank you for coming back to my site to read it.

The year just passed began with grief, in a dark, painful place that seemed inescapable. It ended differently, and while we all continue to miss our beloved Alex, we are, all of us, on a healing path.

Young male lion, Greater Kruger National Park, photo by David B. Coe
Young male lion, Greater Kruger National Park, photo by David B. Coe

Nancy and I traveled a good deal in 2024, including two epic trips, one to Italy and one to South Africa. We stayed with friends in the Pacific Northwest, visited Nancy’s family in Idaho, spent time with Erin in Colorado, and traveled several times to the Hudson Valley in New York for real estate purposes.

Venice. Photo by David B. Coe
Venice. Photo by David B. Coe

Those last trips bore fruit, and I write this today from my new computer table, in my new office, in our new home, in upstate New York. Since mid-August, we have been busy nonstop with travel, but also with cleaning, throwing away old stuff that we no longer needed or wanted, packing, moving, unpacking, painting the new place, and, of course, dealing with banks and title agencies, etc., etc., etc.

View of our new house from the back yard
View of our new house from the back yard

We are settling in, though there are still plenty of boxes sitting here and there, unopened, hiding things we need or want or simply have forgotten about. Our new house is smaller than the old one, and so we have downsized a bit (hence the culling of possessions before the move) and it is in need of a little TLC. But we like it very much, and we LOVE the setting — six-plus acres with a small pond, fruit trees, a view of Taconic Mountains, and plenty of open space for gardening. Nancy envisions a wildflower meadow up near the pond, a vegetable garden nearer the house, and flower beds all around. We have a pair of Great Horned Owls living nearby, a huge flock of turkeys that passes through the yard now and then, and a local Cooper’s Hawk who seems eager for us to put up bird feeders to bring in his next meals.

Erin came for Christmas and the start of Hanukkah and stayed with us for a week. We feared she would not warm to the new house. The one we sold was the only family home she had ever known. On the other hand, all of us found the old house too full of memories and sadness. We were all ready for a change. And it turns out that Erin likes the new place a lot, which made us very happy.

So, we have traveled, we have moved, we have grieved and processed and taken time to begin healing. What is next?

That’s a fairly easy question for Nancy, who, as of midnight on New Year’s is officially retired. She has so many interests and hobbies — gardening, knitting, making music, drawing, writing, reading, and — her latest — weaving. She will have no trouble keeping busy and enjoying this next phase of her life.

I have been asked repeatedly whether I am retiring as well.

I am not.

I miss writing. I miss diving into a new world, a new narrative, the hearts and minds of new characters. I miss my editing work. And after a year of . . . well . . . other stuff, I feel ready to get back to all of it. I don’t know yet what my next project will be. I know that I have spoken often of reissuing my Winds of the Forelands series, and I still intend to do that. I have spoken of writing new Thieftaker books. I would like to do that as well. I would love to return to the Fearsson and Radiants worlds. I have an idea for a new Chalice War project. And I have ideas for things unrelated to anything I’ve written before. And yes, I fully intend to begin taking on new editing clients in the near future.

With one exception, I don’t yet know what conventions I will be attending this year. The exception is ConCarolinas in Charlotte, May 30 through June 1. I will definitely be at that one.

I hope to see many of you in person during the coming year. And I hope as well to be blogging on a more regular basis now that we are settling into our new digs.

Happy 2025 to all of you. It’s good to be back.

DBC

Monday Musings: A New Anthology and Submission Advice For Writers

By now you might have seen the posts across several social media platforms: There is a new Zombies Need Brains Kickstarter campaign underway. For eleven years now, ZNB has been publishing quality short fiction from teams of established professionals and new voices found through open calls for stories. We’re doing three anthologies this year, and before I get to the advice part of the post, I wanted to take a bit of time to tell you about them.ZNB Kickstarter image

The first anthology is Were- 2, and is edited by Joshua Palmatier and S.C. Butler. The original Were- anthology came out in 2016, and featured stories about were-creatures other than werewolves. This new anthology has a similar theme. I wrote a story for Were-, one I still love, called “A Party For Bailey.” For my were-creatures I chose bears, and that’s all I’ll say. I’m sure you’ll love Were- 2 — its anchor authors include Randee Dawn, Auston Habershaw, Gini Koch, Gail Z. Martin and Larry N. Martin, Harry Turtledove, Tim Waggoner, and Jean Marie Ward.

This year’s second anthology is Skull X Bones. It’s a pirate anthology that I will be co-editing with Joshua. We will be looking for speculative fiction stories of any sort (fantasy, paranormal, science fiction, horror), as long as they focus on pirates. Our anchor author lineup includes Rod Belcher, Alex Bledsoe, Jennifer Brozek, C.C. Finlay, Violette Malan, Misty Massey, and Alan Smale.

Finally, Joshua will be solo editing a follow up to the Ampyrium anthology that was published earlier this summer. Ampyrium is a shared fantasy world that debuted in seven novella-length stories written by Patricia Bray, S.C. Butler, Esther M. Friesner, Juliet E. McKenna, Jason Palmatier, Joshua Palmatier, and me. The new anthology, Ampyrium: Merchant War, will have anchor stories from all seven of us, plus another seven stories (or so) from an open call.

So, as a long-time ZNB editor (Skull X Bones will be my sixth ZNB anthology), and a longer-term ZNB author (in addition to those I have edited, I have written for a half dozen ZNB anthologies), what advice can I offer to writers hoping to sell stories to one collection or another? Each ZNB anthology receives literally hundreds of open call submissions. Usually we take seven or eight stories. So you want your story to stand out in good ways.

1) Pay close attention to the anthology themes. When we ask for stories written, say, about pirates, that doesn’t mean the story should merely mention pirates or have one corsair as a background character. It means pirates, of whatever sort, should be so central to the story that without them, the narrative does not exist. For an anthology like Ampyrium: Merchant War, you should probably plan to read some or all of the first anthology, to familiarize yourself with the setting and the themes of those original tales. Speaking as an editor, I can tell you that I reject more stories for not being on theme than for any other reason.

2) Read the submission guidelines. This is important for ANYTHING you submit to any market. All editors are swamped with stories and short on time. We want to find great stories, obviously, but we also want to get through our slush piles. When I get a story that’s written in a tiny font, or that is single-spaced (which makes a story MUCH harder to read), or has wonky margins, or a weird font color, I tend to start reading it with a negative attitude. The writer in question has already ticked me off by ignoring the guidelines, and now I’m looking for one more reason to reject the story and move on to the next one.

You don’t want that. You want to do everything right in terms of formatting and following directions, so that I read the story with an open mind, so that I accept or reject the story purely based on the quality of the writing and narrative elements. Follow. The. Guidelines.

3) Proof your story. Then proof your story. And then proof your story again. Look, typos happen. All of us who edit for ZNB are also professional writers. We all have typos in our own books and stories, and chances are we could read through them 100 times and still not catch every little error. But that said, again speaking as an editor, finding two or three typos on the very first page is much like receiving a story that didn’t follow the GLs (see above). It makes me wonder if the author of the story cared enough to edit. Taking pride in our work means, in part, making our manuscripts as clean as possible.

4) Think about your narrative — and how it relates to the theme — as broadly as possible. Joshua has said, in offering advice on panels, “Your first idea is not necessarily your best idea.” And he’s right. Sometimes, a great idea comes to us immediately. Those moments are magical, but relatively uncommon. More often, our first idea is the most obvious one, which can mean that it will be similar to the ideas of lots of other writers submitting to the anthology. Let your ideas for your story steep a bit. Give them time to take you in truly innovative directions.

5) Develop your ideas. My second most common reason for rejecting a story is that the idea of the narrative failed to move beyond just that: an idea. A story is more than a cool premise. A story is about characters, be they human or fantastical or alien. A story brings some sort of change or progress to the lives of those characters or to the world around them. If your synopsis of the story you’re submitting doesn’t include something about characters, their lives, and the way things change for them, chances are you need to rethink your story. And I would add this — generally speaking, if the word count of your story is under 2,500, it probably needs more development. We rarely take stories that are shorter than that, not because we want you to pad your word count, but rather because it takes time to develop a plot into something more than an idea.

The open call for stories for this year’s ZNB anthologies will begin soon after the Kickstarter ends. So, first things first: We have to fund the projects. We are already a quarter of the way to our goal, which is great. But we still have a long way to go, and we need your help!!

Thanks, and have a great week!

Monday Musings: The Emotional Challenge of Writing

Whenever I work with writers who are at the outsets of their careers — whether I’m editing their work for freelance or for an anthology, or teaching them in a workshop, or just talking shop on a convention panel — I try to stress the importance of delving deeply into emotion when telling our stories. There are so many elements that make a book or story effective. We want to create fascinating worlds, imbue those worlds with breathtaking magical systems or mind-bending imagined technologies, and give those worlds rich, complex histories, cultures, and religions. And, of course, we want our plots to be twisty, unpredictable, fun, and, ultimately, deeply satisfying.

At the end of the day, though, the key to a successful story, at least in my opinion, thirty novels and nearly as many years into my career, is character. Every other element of our storytelling can be perfect, but if our characters are flat and our readers don’t connect with them, we can’t consider our narratives successful. On the other hand, imperfections in our world building and our prose and even our plotting can be overcome with believable, memorable, relatable character work.

And I would argue that successful character work demands that we tap into the emotions of the people about whom we’re writing (even if they’re not technically “people”). Emotion is a writer’s bread and butter. Emotion is how we connect with readers, how our readers come to love (or hate) our characters, how our characters give meaning and purpose to our narratives. Emotion is everything. Without it, we might as well be writing shopping lists, or relating our stories in bullet points.

Why am I telling you this? Many of you aren’t writers, and probably don’t care about the craft of writing. And those of you who are writers have probably heard me talk about this stuff before. As I said at the outset, these are points I make at every opportunity, because I deem them so important to the success of any story.

Infusing our prose with emotion, capturing and portraying the feelings of our characters, using emotion as a tool to propel our plots — all of these things are really hard to do well. Writers spend entire careers perfecting the techniques. But sometimes — for me right now — it can be an overwhelming challenge simply to mine our own emotions so that we can draw upon them in our writing.

“Write what you know,” writers are often told. As a writer of fantasy, I approach this bit of wisdom with a healthy dose of skepticism. If all of us ONLY wrote what we “know” the literary world would be a drab, boring place. But “write what you know” does have some relevance for emotional writing. All of us have felt anger and contentment, fear and resolve, love and hate, sadness and joy. We are emotional creatures. And by drawing on our own emotional experiences and memories, we can bring authenticity and power to the emotions we impart to our characters.

The problem is, sometimes we don’t want to go there.

The Chalice War: Sword, by David B. CoeIn the last year, I have written two pieces of original short fiction. That’s it. I haven’t written a novel since I finished The Chalice War: Sword, late in 2022. I have recently started work on a tie-in project (I can’t really say more than that, right now), a novel. It is coming slowly, and because I am essentially playing in someone else’s world, the emotions I’ll be mining are somewhat removed from my own. I spent the first half of last year doing a bunch of editing, for myself and for others, figuring that when those projects were through, I would dive into a new book of my own.

Then our older daughter’s health took a dramatic turn for the worse, and that was pretty much it. I couldn’t write fiction anymore. I didn’t want to write fiction anymore. Because my entire existence outside of writing was about pain and grief and loss, and the last thing I wanted to do was a deep dive into my own feelings for the purpose of bringing life to new characters.

Now, a couple of things. First, fear not — this is NOT a permanent condition. I will write again, books and stories both. I have ideas I want to explore and projects I want to complete. I’m just not ready yet. And second, notice I said, “I couldn’t write FICTION anymore.” I did not stop writing; I have not stopped being a writer. Not entirely. I am writing posts again, and I have been journaling all this time. I have also been writing to friends. In all of this writing, I am processing and prodding. I may not be willing to delve deeply into my emotional world at this time, but I’m not ignoring it completely. I’m being careful. The way we might favor a twisted knee or avoid contact with a bruise on one side.

Because I am bruised, wounded. And I am far from alone in this regard. Lots of you write with and through emotional pain all the time. Which, I suppose, brings me to my final, larger point. Another thing writers are told constantly is to write as much as possible. “Professional writers write.” I’ve said this myself. And it’s true. But it doesn’t mean we can or should always be forcing ourselves to work on the next thing we want to sell. At times, we need to write for our own purposes. At times, we write not to make money, but to survive, to heal, to find peace. At times, we can only ask so much of ourselves.

This is such a time for me. As much as I would like to be “productive” again (whatever that means) I’m simply not there yet. Emotional writing may be our professional currency, but it’s not always possible. Admitting that, honoring that, is a step toward healing.

Have a great week.

Professional Wednesday: Reading Books Several Times

Under Heaven, by Guy Gavriel KayI have just started reading a book that I have read at least one time before. Maybe two. It is Under Heaven, by Guy Gavriel Kay, a terrific historical fantasy set in a world modeled after Tang Dynasty China. The truth is, I read many of Guy’s books more than once. I read books by other authors multiple times as well, and I would recommend that others do the same — writers AND non-writers.

My first time through any book, I read for plot. Yes, I pay attention to the writing, to the character work, to the creation of setting, to the mechanics of narrative and pacing. But I also tend to rush my reading just a bit, as I am eager to know what happens next. On a second read, I can slow down and appreciate those elements of craft that I know I missed the first time through the book.

This is actually true for me of watching movies and television shows as well. I am a story teller by trade, and I learn something new about story, about dialogue, about pace and point of view, each time I experience a show or movie or book. With Kay’s work in particular, I find that I cannot gain a full appreciate of his magnificent prose and his explorations of character in only one reading. I need to dive back into a book a second, and maybe even a third time to explore it thoroughly.

I will admit that there are also books I have read not two or three times, but ten or twelve. This goes beyond learning craft. The story becomes something more — something akin to literary comfort food. The world of the book is a place I go — familiar, safe, predictable but also beautiful and nurturing. It’s like listening to a favorite old album; the well-worn melodies and lyrics bring peace and transport me to an earlier time.

I also will say that when I edit a story or novel, either for an anthology or for my freelance editing business, I ALWAYS read through the manuscript twice. I edit and make notes both times through, but invariably I find things on the second pass that I missed on the first (in part because I am more distracted by plot on the initial reading). And invariably as well, I find at least a few comments and criticisms that I offered the first time through that are “fixed” by later developments in the story.

There is an old saying that I repeat with some frequency, short and to the point: “Writers read.” We read for any number of reasons. To learn the marketplace and see what others are doing with the old tropes of our chosen genre or subgenre. To support our colleagues and friends in their pursuit of fame and fortune, or at least subsistence and an escape from obscurity. And we read to learn all we can about this marvelous and confounding career path we have chosen.

For that last, one reading is rarely enough. When we find a book that captivates us, that makes us envious of the skill and eloquence of the author, that makes us want to improve our own craft so that we might elicit from our own readers what the author has elicited from us, we are well served to go back and study the text in depth. My friend Faith Hunter often tells of her early reading of fantasy books, as she was making up her mind to write in the genre. She would take notes in the book margins, use highlighters of different colors coded to draw her attention to character development, setting, narrative structure, etc. She made herself a student of the genre, and in doing so mastered it, setting up her subsequent, well-deserved success.

I don’t mark up my books in that way, not because I think it’s a bad idea, but because I’m a little (maybe not so little?) compulsive about keeping my books pristine. But I do study the techniques of other writers. That is why I read certain texts over and over. And that is why I recommend you do the same. Even if you’re not an aspiring writer, there is much to be gained from such exploration. It is akin to pausing in a museum to look more closely at a painting, to study the shape and pattern of brush strokes. Sometimes appreciating fully the work of a story teller means taking the time to scrutinize their approach to telling that story.

Keep writing!

A Word of Thanks, and a Bit of Bragging

My summer of releases continues tomorrow!!

So far this year I have had releases in May (The Chalice War: Stone, the first book in my new Celtic urban fantasy), June (The Chalice War: Cauldron), and July (Artifice and Craft, which I co-edited with Edmund Schubert, and Dragonesque, which includes my short story, “Reenactment”). Now we’re into August, and tomorrow sees the release of The Chalice War: Sword.My Summer 2023 releases

Yes, I say all of this with tremendous pride. I have been productive over the past year. And over the past three years, going back to 2021, I have published four short stories, edited three anthologies, and produced five novels and a trilogy of novellas. That’s nothing to sneeze at. The truth is, my work has been a balm and a welcome distraction from other things. Being productive has been a form of therapy for me.

I want to thank you all so much for your support of my work, and of me personally. I’m more grateful than I can say. The past few years have not been easy, but your interest in my new books and stories, and your willingness to read my blog posts and social media screeds has meant the world to me. No, I’m not going anywhere. I have more projects to work on, more blog posts to write. But I wanted to pause and say thanks. I wish all of you the best.

Professional Wednesday: Beginnings, Middles, and Endings, part IV — Keeping Our Plots Tight

Today, I bring you one more “Middles” post in my several-weeks-long feature on “Beginnings, Middles, and Endings.” You can find past posts in the series here, here, and here.

I made the self-evident point a couple of weeks ago that the vast middle of any book is by far the largest segment, which is why I have spent a few weeks on the subject. At the same time, though, there are as many different ways to approach the middle (and the beginning, and the ending) as there are books to be written, which is to say there’s an infinite number. And so there are only so many specifics I can offer. This, it seems to me is especially true of the middle. Beginnings share a common purpose — we use them to hook our readers. Endings seek to cap off our narratives, tie off loose ends and, perhaps, hint at additional story elements to come in subsequent volumes.

The purpose of the middle is to tell the story. How’s that for vague?

As I say, the middle can take readers literally anywhere. That said, though, I believe strongly that every scene in the vast middle has to serve a narrative purpose. This is one reason why I tend to rely on an outline when I write. Even if that outline is rough and purposefully sketchy, it helps me organize my thoughts and plan out my story. I don’t do it because I’m OCD. (I mean, I am OCD, but that’s not why I outline. Or at least it’s not the only reason. Okay, moving on . . . .) I do it because I don’t want wasted pages in my manuscript. I want my pacing as taut and clean as it can be.

Shapers of Darkness, by David B. Coe (Jacket art by Romas Kukalis)I am currently reading through my Winds of the Forelands series, editing OCR scans of the books in order to re-release them sometime in the near future. Winds of the Forelands was my second series, a sprawling epic fantasy with a complex, dynamic narrative of braided plot lines. At the time I wrote the series (2000-2006) I worked hard to make each volume as coherent and concise as possible. Looking back on the books now, I see that I was only partially successful. I’m doing a light edit right now — I’m only tightening up my prose. The structural flaws in the series will remain. They are part of the story I wrote, and an accurate reflection of my writing at the time. And the fact is, the books are pretty darn good.

RADIANTS, by David B. Coe (Jacket art by Belle Books)But when I hold Winds of the Forelands up beside the Radiants books, or the Chalice War novels, or even my Islevale Cycle, which is my most recent foray into big epic fantasy, the older story suffers for the comparison. There are so many scenes and passages in WOTF that I could cut without costing myself much at all. The essence of the storyline would remain, and the reading experience would likely be smoother and quicker. — Sigh — So be it.

Again, the purpose of outlining, and the purpose of revising and editing, ought to be to make our work as concise and focused as possible. I can think of several books by big name authors that have in their vast middles scenes that meander, that serve little or no narrative purpose, that (in my opinion) actually detract from the larger story. I won’t name the books or authors, but chances are you have come across similar scenes in books you’ve read. Maybe you’ve encountered the same ones I’m thinking of. This is the sort of thing we want to avoid. Big name authors can get away with doing this occasionally. Authors seeking to break into the business, or mid-list authors looking to move up the ladder, simply can’t.

So, how do we avoid those superfluous, serve-no-purpose scenes?

Well, as I’ve said already, one way to avoid them is to outline. I know there are many dedicated so-called “organic writers” out there, and I respect that. Again, I outline loosely, precisely because I want to maintain the organic quality of my writing. Still, outlining really can help keep us from straying from our crucial plot points.

So can something called Vernor’s Rule. This is a writing principle I have discussed before in various venues. Allow me to explain it again here. “Vernor” is multiple Hugo-award winning author Vernor Vinge, who is best known for such books as A Fire Upon the Deep and A Deepness In the Sky. For a time, he and I had the same editor at Tor Books — that editor is the person who first told me of Vernor’s Rule.

Vernor’s Rule goes like this: There are basically three things we authors do as storytellers. We advance our plots, we build character, and we fill in background information. (Yes, this oversimplifies things a bit, but if you think about it you soon see that all we write can be placed under these three broad headings.) Every scene we write should be doing at least two of these things simultaneously. Preferably, each scene should do all three things at once. If a scene only accomplishes one of these things, or — heavens forbid — none of them, our narrative has stalled and we need to rework the scene.

Got that? If not, read the paragraph again — it sounds more complicated than it is. Really. It means essentially that writers need to multitask all the time. Every scene, every passage, ought to accomplish several things at once. That’s how we keep our narratives moving. That’s how we tackle the vast middle.

Next week we start endings. As it were.

Keep writing!

Professional Wednesday: Another Letter To My Younger Self

Dear Younger Me,

Yes, it’s me again — Middle Aged David. Upper Middle Aged David, actually. I know I wrote to you earlier this week. I remember doing so. I’m not so far gone quite yet. But I thought you might benefit from a second letter focused on the professional side of things. As I told you on Monday, we did wind up having a career in writing, just as we dreamed when we were a kid. And, also as I told you, our professional life hasn’t followed precisely the path we envisioned. That’s fine. We’ve had a good ride so far. But there’s stuff you should know, stuff I wish I had known.

I suppose all of it can be summed up in two words — and I hate to resort to cliché, in a writing post no less, but it really is true. Shit happens. It does, it does, it does. And it has happened to us. More than once.

The biggest mistake I made — we made — early on was assuming our career trajectory would be linear, a progression toward greater and greater success, higher and higher advances, bigger and better sales numbers. That may be true for a select few, but for most writers a career follows a meandering, uncertain path. Some books and series are more successful than others — commercially and critically. I call that early expectation of ever-improving circumstance our biggest mistake not because it somehow led to a disappointing outcome for one project or another, but because it caused me — us — so much pain. When our career hit that first speed bump, I took it personally. I felt I had failed, and also that the industry had failed me. I was confused and angry and sad and, most of all, terrified at the thought that this first disappointment would mean the end of our professional journey. I didn’t yet understand the nature of a creative life.

And so I say to you, Younger Me, learn resilience. Grieve for those lofty unmet ambitions, but then move on and try again. Learn moderation. Don’t let commercial and critical success carry you too high, and don’t let poor results drive you too low. Success will follow failure, which will follow success, and so on. If you can — and I know it’s so, so hard — learn to let go of expectation entirely. We don’t know which books will soar and which will flop. We love them all, which is why we go to the extreme trouble of writing them in the first place. And finally, learn contentment. Love the stories you create on their own terms. Find success in the completion of a good tale, in the realization of an artistic vision.

Take every promise made to you by an editor and publisher with a grain of salt. It’s not that they don’t mean what they say. Okay, SOME of them don’t mean what they say. But mostly, they simply can’t anticipate all that might happen. Producing a book is no small feat. A thousand things can go wrong. Editors and publishers often tell us, as if gospel, that a certain thing is going to happen on a given date. And that is, at the moment, their best guess of what will happen. Pencil in the date. Don’t commit it to ink. Because, as we have established, shit happens.

Thieftaker, by D.B. Jackson (Jacket art by Chris McGrath)All those great ideas you have for jacket art? They’re not as great as you think they are. Seriously. We are a writer. And we’re very, very good at that. We are NOT a graphic artist. We are NOT a marketing expert. I remember when the first Thieftaker novel went into production, I had what I thought was SUCH a wonderful idea for the jacket art. A can’t miss idea. PERFECT for the book. It wasn’t any of those things. The moment I saw Chris McGrath’s image for the book, which WAS brilliant and wonderful and perfect, I understood that no one should ever put me — us — in charge of selecting jacket art.

INVASIVES, by David B. Coe (Jacket art courtesy of Belle Books)On the other hand, do trust in your story ideas. All of them. Even the old ones that haven’t yet gone anywhere. At some point, you’ll have an idea for a story about three kids living in the subway tunnels beneath New York City. And you won’t have any idea what to do with it. You’ll give up on it. Don’t. It will become Invasives. At another time, you’ll write a story about two women interacting with Celtic deities and trying to protect an ancient, transcendently powerful magical artifact. That one, too, will seem to languish. Trust the story. That book just came out. It’s called The Chalice War: Stone. Believe in your vision.

If a publisher promises more than you think they can deliver, under terms that seem way too good to be believed, be skeptical. Very, very skeptical. Chances are, they CAN’T deliver. Chances are those terms can’t be met. We’ve been burned a couple of times. ’Nough said.

Over the past twenty-five-plus years, I have tried to thank Nancy every single day for making our career possible. And I’ll continue to thank her. But I might have missed a few days. Fill in the gaps, will you?

Most of all, keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll do the same. No, we haven’t gotten all we wanted, we haven’t achieved every goal. But we’re doing okay, and as much fun as you’ve been having early in our career, I’m having even more now. It keeps getting better.

And yes, the rumors are true. We’re editing now, and we like it. The dark side really is more powerful . . . .

Best wishes,

Older David