When to Make Changes to a "Finished" Manuscript

 

As I’ve mentioned before, perfection can’t be achieved, so I don’t wait for it before sending out a manuscript. I try to write the best book I can at the time, get it edited, and make a few final changes before moving from the production to the submission stage. But once I start submitting, my practice had been to keep my hands off the text and concentrate my writing skills on the next book. If a publisher or agent accepts the manuscript and wants changes, I’ll do that, but the initial writing process is done. At that point, second-guessing myself takes up valuable time without making the manuscript noticeably better.

But there are rare occasions when I have revised a manuscript after sending it out. The most recent came a few days ago. My latest story takes place during the Pullman Strike of 1894, and one of my protagonists and his friends watch the Labor Day parade in Chicago. As I was looking for a good photo to go with my Labor Day post for next week, I came across a historical article stating that it was raining in Chicago that year. My description hadn’t mentioned the weather so it wasn’t wrong, but it was incomplete. Since I like to be as historically accurate as is possible without losing my reader, I revised that chapter to include rain. A few small changes were all I needed.

My changes to Desert Jewels were more extensive. My first middle-grade historical novel was about a Japanese-American girl interred during World War II. Wonder of wonders, I got one of those rare rejection letters that was actually personalized. Although the publisher passed, the letter stated, “we felt that the delivery of historical information was a little too didactic, and that the story itself was a little too spare.” The letter confirmed my own unease about the story, and I ended up making significant changes. That was the first of only two times I broke my rule and revised a story after submitting it.

I needed some photos for the top of this post, so I decided to use photo-editing to show the difference between good and (maybe) better, although that characterization depends on the observer. If you look closely at the first phot, you will see some natural imperfections—a metal appendage on each side of the tower and a few thin branches (primarily in the upper right-hand corner) that appear to be scratches but aren’t. I could leave it natural or I could clone those “imperfections” out, as I did in the second photo. I’ll let you decide which is better.

The point is that some changes improve the manuscript or the photo but others don’t. The writer or photographer has to make that call. But even when changes are made, the result will never be perfect.

So don’t overdo it.

__________

I took the photo of Sabylund Lutheran Church during a trip to Wisconsin in 2010.

Dealing with Ambiguity

 

As I said in my last post, I enjoy choosing photographs for the Lake County Fair. The rules say they have to have been taken in the last three years, and that limits my options. As a result, there are many categories that I simply don’t enter.

Then there are those times when I have several photos I like for a particular category. Since I can only enter one, I have to make a choice. Color and black and white are separate, so sometimes the discarded photo can be used in the other category. But not always. Just because something looks good in color doesn’t mean it works in monochrome. And after I make my choice, I often second-guess myself and wonder if the other photo would have done better.

But the worst part is the ambiguity in several of the categories. Here is the list:

Domestic/Farm Animal

Artistic Effect/Collaging

Floral

Human Interest

Nature – Scenic

Portrait

Lake County Fair

Insect

Architecture

Wildlife

Sports

Weather  

Most are self-explanatory, but three involve some ambiguity.

First, the very words “Artistic Effect” are subjective. Do they include the everyday art that we see around us, or must those objects be manipulated into something else? Fortunately, past winners indicate that what the eye sees can qualify, so I entered these snaking benches in the black and white category. It didn’t win anything, but I love the artistic effect created by the subject.

Second, I have no idea what “Human Interest” means. I didn’t enter in that category this year, but my past entries have always included people who were not looking at the camera, such as the sand artist from 2018. Looking at past winners, however, people don’t appear to be a necessary element. In fact, Human Interest appears to be more of a catch-all for those photos that either don’t fit anywhere else or would double-up in a category where the photographer already has an entry.

The final category that confuses me is the Nature – Scenic one. I can tell from past winners that it can include manmade structures, such as bridges, but how much must the nature element predominate? This year I tried it both ways, as you can see from the photos at the top of the page (neither of which earned a ribbon). The first is Boukes Luck Potholes from South Africa, and the second is Portland Head Light in Maine. Even the Portland Head Light is mostly setting, however. Would it have qualified if I had used a close-up? I don’t know.

The subject categories aren’t the only source of ambiguity. Photographers are separated into two classes: beginner and advanced. The definition of a beginner is “less than 5 years of experience and/or 5 juried showings.” A juried showing is one that the photographer has to apply, and often compete, to participate in, so that is an objective measure. But how do you define 5 years of experience? Some members of my photo club define it by adding the words “at the Lake County Fair” after “experience” and entering in the beginning group even when they have competed at the club level for many more than five years. Since I am in the advanced group, that is to my advantage since it means I don’t have to compete against them, but it doesn’t seem fair to true beginning photographers. But without more clarity in the definition, it is hard to argue with their interpretation.

I get it that the Fair’s Family Arts and Crafts Department (which runs the photography exhibit) has very little room to explain the rules and the categories, and I’m not sure how they could make it clearer without using more space. Sometimes you just have to live with ambiguity.

But it’s still frustrating.

Winning Isn't Everything

 

Another Lake County Fair has come and gone. This was the second time in seven years that I haven’t won anything, but that’s okay. I was up against stiff competition, and many of my competitors spend hours using post-processing software. I don’t have that kind of time. I usually spend 15-30 minutes to bring out the highlights and eliminate the worst flaws, but I prefer my photos to look natural.

Of course I like to win, but that’s not the primary reason I enter. I enjoy sorting through my photos looking for decent pictures that fit the categories, and although I may not think a photo will win, I’m happy to enter anything that doesn’t embarrass me. In other words, if I like it, that’s good enough.

Photography is art, not science, and judging it is subjective. It’s good to understand the traditional wisdom because there are many times when following technical “rules” improve a picture. But not always. It’s all in how the photographer sees his or her subject. Since the photographer is the only person who knows what he or she is trying to say with a particular photo, ultimately the artist is the only judge who matters.

And I’m fine with that.

Lessons from the Shark Tank: A Few Last Words

 

Here are a few other lessons I learned from Shark Tank.

• Don’t hold out for perfection. One woman lost a deal for her all-natural kosher soups because she was worried about losing control of the quality if she contracted with a commercial kitchen to make and pack the soup. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have the facilities to fill all her orders and the sharks didn’t think that building her own commercial kitchen was a viable option. If I remember correctly, the sharks felt she was heading toward bankruptcy because she wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than perfection.

If I refused to submit my manuscripts to editors and agents until they were perfect, they would never leave my office. Yes, I want to get them as close to perfection as I can, but at some point, the time I spend revising has diminishing returns. That’s when I stop tinkering and send the manuscript off.

• Don’t overvalue yourself and walk away from needed help. If someone comes on the show asking for a $100,000 investment for 5% of their company, that means they value the company at $2 million ($100,000 X 20). As professional investors, the sharks are experts at valuation, and they have a much lower one. Some participants negotiate and give up a larger share, lowering their valuation in exchange for the investment. Others refuse to adjust their figures to match those of the experts and walk away from help they desperately need to keep their companies going.

Writers act the same way when they ignore suggestions from critique partners. Notice that I said ignore, not reject. Some suggestions should be rejected, but only after thinking them through. Years ago a member of my critique group frequently criticized the stories I was writing for the Christian market. My knee-jerk reaction was, “you’re not my target audience.” But when I thought about it more, I realized that I was missing out on the opportunity to draw in a larger audience. Often a small change made a big difference without losing the impact of the story. If I had gone with my first reaction, I would have lost that opportunity to improve.

• Arrogance gets you nowhere. One participant had a patented wine glass—with the wine included—that several sharks wanted. He had been on the show before and Mr. Wonderful had offered him a deal with the idea of licensing the product, but the participant turned it down. When I watched, he had returned to the show because (if I remember correctly) he didn’t have the funds to produce the inventory he needed for his own sales. Kevin still wanted the product and one or two of the other sharks were willing to join the deal, but their valuation was significantly lower than the patent owner’s valuation. He left the room to call a mentor who was successful in the beer business, and that person apparently agreed with the participant’s valuation rather than with the valuation placed on it by the sharks. When Mr. Wonderful asked if the mentor had invested anything in the company the participant said no, that a good advisor must be disinterested. That position is contrary to what the sharks have repeatedly said. The very arrogant participant basically thumbed his nose at the sharks and walked out without a deal. Personally, I'm not sure that wasn’t his game plan to begin with, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his arrogance sent the company into bankruptcy.

Arrogance also turns readers off. So if you want to attract them, be humble.

• Be honest. I’m pretty sure that Shark Tank isn’t scripted, and I believe them when they say the sharks make their own decisions and invest their own money. But that doesn’t mean the words “you have a deal” are binding. As good business-people, the sharks would naturally check out the claims made on the show before writing a check. Someone who misrepresents his or her product or sales will end up with a lost deal and a bad reputation

Research is also an important part of credible writing, even if it’s fantasy. If something doesn’t ring true, readers won’t pick up the next book by that same author.

Now that you know more about Shark Tank, don’t forget the lessons learned.

Lessons from the Shark Tank: Secondary Characters Have Their Own Role to Play

 

The people who go on Shark Tank to pitch an investment come in all shapes and sizes. That’s also true of those secondary characters in fiction who have more than a walk-on role. When developing secondary characters, it can be helpful to draw from the personalities that predominate on Shark Tank.

Here are some of the common types.

• Patronizing. These are the participants who think they are smarter than the sharks. They ignore the sharks’ advice and keep arguing even after the sharks have made their position clear. One example is two women with bedding sets who wanted the money for an infomercial and refused to listen when all five sharks said that wasn’t the right sales approach for their product. Although they said they agreed, their comments on leaving the tank were that the infomercial was the right approach and they were determined to do it.

In fiction, this is the person who won’t listen to anyone’s advice, even if he or she has asked for it.

• Clueless. These are people who believe in their products so much that they have unrealistic expectations about how much the business will grow and/or are blind to the fact that the business is headed toward bankruptcy. Or they may be so in love with the product or the marketing plan that they can’t see the flaws.

In fiction, this is the naïve or impractical character who expects unrealistic outcomes.

• Snake-oil salesman/scammer. This is the stereotypical salesperson who makes outrageous claims with no scientific research or consumer trials to back them up. On Shark Tank, it may be someone with a diet pill or an electro-magnetic watch that is supposed to cure all the wearer’s ills.

In fiction, this is a charismatic person who will lead others down the wrong path.

• Inventor. Some participants come on the show to pitch their second or third or even tenth invention but aren’t enthusiastic about the business side of the enterprise. They may get a deal if they have a patented invention and are willing to license it. But if they want to be the ones to sell it, they walk away empty-handed.

In fiction, these are people who jump from one idea to another or refuse to give up control of their grand brainchildren.

• Waffler. These people can’t make up their minds. When offered a deal, they take forever to consider it or shop around among the other sharks even when told they must decide immediately. The shark who has offered a deal often rescinds it, leaving the waffler with nothing.

In fiction, the person who can’t make up his or her mind often loses out on opportunities and ends up with nothing.

• Teachable. This person is inexperienced or not terribly strong on the business side but is eager to learn. If he or she has a good product, one or more of the sharks may be willing to mentor the participant.

In fiction, this is actually a good characteristic for a protagonist to have since it will add realism to his or her internal journey.

• Entrepreneur. The true entrepreneur has an interesting product, a realistic understanding of its market potential, and good business sense. This person is almost guaranteed to walk away with a deal.

In fiction, this is James Bond. Sometimes this is the least interesting of the characters because there are no flaws for the reader to identify with. However, if dressed up properly (similar to having an interesting product in the Shark Tank), the reader will buy into the character anyway.

On Shark Tank, the participant’s personality may be the main determinant of whether he or she gets a deal. Even if the business opportunity is fantastic, most sharks won’t work with someone who will be hard to get along with.

That can create great tension in your fiction.

So make it work for you.