Here’s how you shouldn‘t do it.

1. Write things exactly as they happened, in the order in which they happened. Even in a memoir, readers need a dramatic arc, a story, not just a recitation of facts. “But that’s how it happened!” clients have told me. Maybe so, but just because it happened doesn’t mean it needs to be included. Pick and choose the events, thoughts, and people who make your memoir into a coherent story, and discard the rest.
2. No detail is too small. That’s right. No story will get bogged down in the minutae of daily life, will it? Everyone is bound to find every conversation you have absolutely riveting, aren’t they? Um, no. Many of us remember the beginnings of social networks, when we were treated to the particulars of someone’s breakfast menu or the moment they decided to take a nap. There is nothing interesting about the details of anyone’s day. Trust me on this. If you have something interesting to say, say it. Otherwise, leave it out.
3. If it’s interesting to me, it will be interesting to the book-purchasing public. Uh-huh. I’ve noticed that in general the people who live the most interesting lives are not the same ones who go around saying that their life is interesting. Check out your premise with a critique group before you assume that it’s going to capture the world’s attention.
4. Memoir and biography are kind of the same thing. Yeah. Like broccoli and sports cars are kind of the same thing. A biography is a straightforward narrative that does in fact capture an individual’s life in chronological order. It’s generally written about someone who has accomplished many significant things (being president of a country, discovering the cure for cancer, founding an opera company). If that just described you, then go for it. Memoir, on the other hand, follows a theme: a time, relationship, career, or task that was particularly significant and that can be woven into a story arc. If you’re still unclear, take a look at Frederick Buechner’s memoir, The Sacred Journey. In it he says,
   

   Memory is more than a looking back to a time that is no longer; it is a looking out into another kind of time altogether where everything that ever was continues not just to be, but to grow and change with the life that is in it still.

5. This is bound to be a bestseller. Okay, I’m not even going to comment on that one.

So there you have it. Think many more times than twice before attempting a memoir, and then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

I’ve been recommending critique groups for about 10 years now, and in that time have had only two authors join. Everyone else either still wants me to edit, or goes away looking for another editor who will tell them their work is ready for editing.

So here are some good reasons to join a critique group:

1. It doesn’t cost you anything. Well, that’s not quite true: it will cost you time and energy, as you’re expected to critique others’ work as well as receiving critiques yourself. But see #5, below. And the money you save can be better used when your book is ready for editing—and/or should you decide to self-publish, when you’ll need to hire all sorts of people like cover designers, layout people, and so on.
2. You can do it in person. Many writers prefer the weekly meetings that keep them focused and give them deadlines. Check for local critique groups through your chapter of the National Writers Union (you do belong, right?), at your local library, or check out this partial list.



3. You can do it online. If you’re not near a group, or prefer to have an assortment of critiques from all over the world, then online groups are terrific. The one I recommend is the Internet Writing Workshop, where you can participate in interesting discussions about the writing life as well as join critique groups for nearly any genre you can imagine.
4. Critiquing others’ work improves your own. I can’t say this strongly enough. Reading others’ work with an eye to whether or not it “works” will give you that eye when you come back to your own work. Not to mention the karma points!
5. You know you’re not alone. Writing is one of the loneliest activities on the planet. You create alone. You write alone. You read alone. And that’s all well and good, but when you receive your 48th straight rejection, it’s good to have people with whom to share it. People who understand. (And they’ll be your biggest supporters when you finally get that acceptance, too!)

So there you have it: five great reasons to join a critique group. Why not do it today? And then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

We all know that there are pros and cons on all sides of the question. But I was extraordinarily impressed with the time one participant took to answer the question in depth—so impressed, in fact, that I asked her permission to repost her comments here. Take them to heart.

I think that one of the most difficult things for authors to grasp is that finishing the writing part of the book is truly only the beginning of their work …

If I may weigh in on this, from the vantage point of someone who is neither author nor publisher nor IndyAuthor, but works with all of the forementioned…

In my experience, the single biggest obstacle that authors have on the road to self-publishing is themselves, period. I have exceedingly few authors who come through my metaphysical doors prepared to be publishers. Most authors get to the point where they type “The End,” and think they’re done; and many feel that, quite bluntly, they shouldn’t have to do anything further. At most, they think that they should have to suffer through editing their work—but most never think about what is truly involved in publishing, which isn’t the same thing as printing.

Moreover, I’ve yet to meet the client that was legacy-published (advance- and royalties-paid author, not subsidy author) who ever felt that their publisher “had done enough for them.” (This is not a criticism of the OP; this is simply a recitation of the sentiment expressed by and large by over 1,000 author-clients, a very large percentage of whom have been legacy-pubbed.) I speculate that this sensation, by the author, generally (not always) comes from a true lack of appreciation for what publishing actually takes, or how much work is involved.

At Booknook.biz, in fact, we’ve been working on a set of documents or tutorials with a lame working title of “So, You Want to Be a Publisher,” which in very broad strokes outlines all the nine bajillion things that a publisher does that an author doesn’t. It’s a long list.

I am asked by clients daily for recommendations for “publicists” and other fantastical creatures to do the work of publicity for their books. I am asked by authors daily to “get their ISBNs” for them, to “pick the cover designer,” to “upload their books for them,” and while we’re at it, can I find them an editor (who works for less than minimum wage), find a $25 cover designer, find royalty-free fonts to replace the expensive fonts they used in their ms (because finding, licensing and downloading fonts is “too hard”), and can they hire someone to send emails to bloggers to get reviews for their books? I am asked not less than five times a day how much an author should price his/her books at; and can I get them a list of the 50 best book bloggers for their genre, or tell them how to get a review at MBR for their ebook, while I’m at it?

This—all of this—is what a publisher does. Researching everything: from traditional publishing to subsidy publishing to indy publishing; buying ISBNs; assigning an imprint name; researching cover design styles, finding a cover designer, negotiating the fees for the cover, finding and licensing art for the cover, finding and licensing fonts for the cover (if the cover designer isn’t doing that) and for the interior; registering the copyright, determining how you will distribute your book (aggregator or yourself, or only in eBook form?), researching the niche/genre and the pricing therefore; learning how to navigate, use and leverage Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Library Thing; writing press releases, finding review blogs for your genre, deciding whether NetGalley is worth the price, determining whether KDP select is for you, scheduling book tours, virtual and physical—and, oh yes, doing all the accounting, bookkeeping and tax documents yourself.

This is what a publisher does, indy, small imprint or Random House. Far too many authors, in my experience, think of themselves as “artists,” and not as businesspeople. As hobbyists, not commercial enterprises.

Here’s the bottom line: publishing is a business. If you are not prepared to be businesslike about it, and run your book(s) like a small business, you are probably better off using a subsidy press and not doing much—and don’t expect much (because, after all, the vast majority of “subsidy” or “partner” publishers are really just grossly over-compensated printers, and you could do the same thing at Createspace for far less money, and get better distribution).

If you are prepared to put in the blood, sweat and tears—and reap the rewards—then indy publishing is for you.

Now, none of this will make a bad book good; but not doing any of it will certainly help tank a good book. And the part that most miss is that, promotionally-speaking, this is the same work that legacy-pubbed midlisters have to do every day, so the differences in the workload are really quite small.

I know—believe me!—that many authors are very shy people, and cringe at the idea of all of this–but this is what it takes. Self-publishing is indeed, in our lifetimes (as it was in Ben Franklin’s, and Aristotle’s, for that matter) a brave new frontier; but one has to remove the artist’s beret and put on that entrepreneur’s hat. If you can do that, then it’s a fantastic opportunity to do well.

The author of this post is Kimberly Hitchens (“Hitch”), and one of the things she does is produce ebooks. She’s listed as an Amazon Professional Conversion Service and an INScribe Preferred Conversion Partner. Follow Hitch on Twitter as well, and then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

The number one rule for critiques is derived from one you may have heard before: Critique as you would be critiqued. You wouldn’t want people telling you your story is no damn good, so don’t do it to other people, no matter what.

The first thing to say about a piece is what you liked about it–the idea, a character, the plot, a glittering piece of writing, whatever. Find something you liked, and mention it.

Don’t say only “I liked it!” or “It’s beautiful!” Figure out what made it good or bad, if you can, and talk about that.

Tell the writer whether you liked the story as a whole or not. Did it move you? Make you laugh? Make you cry? Leave you cold? Overall, what stood out, good or bad? Whether you liked the story or not, what could be done to improve it?

Talk about the writing style. Was the style too flowery, or too pedestrian? Too cute? Were the sentences overlong, or too short? Were they all similar, so they became monotonous?

What about the structure? Do the parts of the story follow in the right order? Did you learn something way down that you should have known sooner? Does the story go at breakneck speed, leaving you breathless? Or is it just too slow? Was the piece overwritten–that is, should it be cut? Where? What’s not necessary? What actually detracts? Was it too short? Did you need more information about something?

How did the characters strike you? Did you like the hero, hate the villain? How about nuances? Did the characters seem alive? How could the writer have made you feel more deeply with the characters?

Does the setting seem real? Can you feel the place? Settings matter.

You can do a line-by-line critique if you want; you don’t have to, but it’s good to show examples of things you think need to be improved.

A good critique takes time and thought. Remember, that’s what you want your stories to get–give it to those of others.

When someone critiques one of your pieces, say thank you nicely, even if you think the critique was stupid–you’ve at least learned how stupid people will view it. Take the good suggestions, and ignore the not so good. If nobody likes it, it needs work. If half love the piece and half hate it, that’s fine, for tastes differ. Don’t feel bad if there’s plenty
wrong with it; nothing’s perfect, and you can make it better. If a critique hurts, that’s okay; you’ll survive. Nobody has a thick skin, even those who say they do.

Want to learn more? Carter Jefferson’s wisdom is accessible at his website. He lives in Boston and has been a reporter and copy editor on a metropolitan daily, a Navy officer, a professor of history, and a family therapist. He started writing professionally when he was 15 on a local ethnic newspaper, and has never stopped. Officially retired, he now writes fiction, memoirs, and essays for e-zines, and teaches creative writing to the senior set at U.Mass./Boston.

So check out his work, and then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

I remember when I left the land of cubicles and fluorescent lighting, I was particularly pleased that I would no longer be subjected to performance reviews. It took a couple of years on my own to realize that they’re even more necessary in a freelance business than in the corporate one, because the bottom line is your bottom line!

So if you set up a quarterly performance review for yourself, you’ll find that you have a much better sense of how you’re doing, where your strengths are, and how you can improve. Here are five steps you can take to review your own performance and improve your freelance business:

1. Ask yourself the hard questions. What did I set out to do during this quarter?
   What actually happened … what were the actual results? Why did these results occur? What am I going to do to improve performance during the next quarter?
2. Based on your answers to those questions, make a list of wins (places where you met or exceeded your goals) and losses (places where you fell short). Obviously I am assuming that you do in fact have planned out goals, written them down, referred to them consistently. If you haven’t, then that’s your first task here!
3. Take your two lists and analyze them. Are these goals still relevant? If not, adjust them. What caused your failures? What caused your successes? How can you transfer more items from the losses column to the wins column?



4. Write out a plan that incorporates the goals you need to accomplish during the next quarter.
5. Now look at the reasons for your losses. This is the hardest part of your personal performance review. Were some of them under your control? Did laziness, lack of attention, not enough focus come into play? Whatever it was, this is something for you to target for the next quarter and bear in mind as you examine its goals.

Don’t forget also to reward yourself for the wins … a good performance review notes both success and failure. And then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!