Coming to the end of my third novel now and it got me all thoughtful about what I’ve learned so far. I’m far from actually liking my work, much less thinking I’ve got anything worthwhile to impart, but I thought it’d be interesting to throw out what’s worked for me and what hasn’t. This is all a bit of a lonely hobby to get into really, and sometimes it’s nice to hear from people struggling through it and what got them out of sticky spots. Anyhow, I think this stuff works for any creative endeavor, not just writing.
So:
1. Yo, stop trying to sound smart, yeah? No really. It comes from insecurity and it’s totally understandable but stop it; people will dislike your work by default when they see it. I developed the habit of backing up my work to email accounts when I was in my teens, and Christ on a bike, it’s been interesting to rediscover some of my old stuff in my twenties now. I reread a ‘short story’ (that’s giving it too much credit to start with) from when I must have been about fourteen or so and just cringed the whole way through. It just reeked of oh fickle audience! Look at what a verbose little genius I am! No. No no no. Stop it. Read any even moderately successful writer – ignoring a few anomalous exceptions – and you’ll notice that they all write concisely. They use obscure or difficult language when they have to, not because they can. Just write clearly. It’s the story you’re trying to convey. The medium is complimentary.
2. Everyone thinks they suck (and the opposite simultaneously). There are few writers out there with self-esteem, but it was pretty relieving to realise that almost all creative types are usually insecure about their work and ability. Conversely though they love it too. I’ll give you an example. I spent 6 months in Taiwan furiously writing a novel I’d had in my head for about 3 years. I was lonelier than I’d ever been, but it felt good just to cut myself off and work on something that hard. I finished it, I edited it, I sent it out to agents. No one bit; no surprise there. Though I was pretty insecure about my ability as a writer, I assumed that having spent 6 months (!!!) on something must make it brilliant. I’d sweated over that thing. I used every waking moment to daydream about the characters. I’d spent Friday nights on it while my housemates went out drinking, for the love of Yahweh. It had to be good. Cut to about 6 months later. I thought I might try editing it again, patch it up. I heaved that sucker out of the drawer looking forward to getting back into the world I’d built. And it sucked. I don’t mean it had a few holes. I mean it was a literary plane crash. Plot? What’s that? Character development? Pfffffft. It was abysmal. Take time away from whatever it is you’ve been pouring yourself into and come back to it. If it’s still good, you’re onto a winner. Just because you’re suffering over something doesn’t mean it’s going to be great by default. However, on the flip side, everyone that’s ever done anything decent in literature was extremely critical of themselves for the most part. It goes with the territory. I’m always slightly uneasy around people who assert that they’re a great writer/artist from the outset.
3. I’ll loosely quote Neil Gaiman on this one. When someone tells you something doesn’t work, they’re almost always right. When someone tells you how to fix it, they’re almost always wrong. The majority of your readers aren’t going to be writers. They’re not looking at it technically. They’re just reading it for enjoyment. If they aren’t enjoying it or –worse – if it’s boring them, something’s gone wrong. That’s okay, everything sucks at first. However, about four seconds later they’re going to make a suggestion. Take it on board but for the love of god add a pinch of salt to it. Expressing dissatisfaction is easy; fixing it usually takes a bit of knowhow.Criticism is a medicine that tastes disgusting but will ultimately cure all your wores if you get good at taking it. You should take it. It's good for you. Yum. Critilicious.
4. Distract your lower-brain. This one might just be specific for me, but I use it too much not to throw out there. I reckon it works for all creative problems. Stuck? Miserable? Dead-ended? Ace, perfect time to go for a run/bike ride/kayak ride/martial arts session. I have no idea why it works, but exercise sees to distract the reptilian lower brain bits, all the ‘no! I’ll never finish this book!’ and ‘this creativity stuff is fun, but let’s play starcraft for 11 and a half hours straight instead’ thoughts. There’s something about somewhat-stressful exercise that just opens you up. Opens me up, anyway. I’m fairly confident it works for everyone. I could go all speculative here and try and tie it to our evolutionary origins, but for now I’ll just leave it at: go and run about a bit if you’re stuck.
5. Ignore the jaded and bitter. They’ve been around forever they’re two a penny. It’s easy to feel like you’ve screwed up and spend all your time belittling other people’s efforts. Just acknowledge it and move on. As I said, anyone that ever did anything of creative worth thought it sucked while they were working on it. They easily could’ve listened to the naysayers and given up too. They didn’t. Don’t do that either.
So, those are my 2 cents. I'd be curious to hear yours too.
Tuesday, 7 April 2015
Conventions Are Silly
First off, if you've got about twenty minutes, be sure to watch Steven Pinker giving a great talk on the conventions of language in writing. He's a brilliant psychologist, a highly accomplished writer, and his hair reminds me of a cocker spaniel.
He articulated something I've been thinking for years now, but couldn't quite put my finger on. Conventions are totally made up.
I think that if you're going to attempt to get good at something, you should see how the experts got to be the experts. I wanted to become a better writer, so I spent a while reading about what others writers - good writers, had done. I remember coming across a list of ten tips for writing by Jonathan Franzen and being horrified.
"Never use the word "then" as a conjunction – we have "and" for this purpose. Substituting "then" is the lazy or tone-deaf writer's non-solution to the problem of too many "ands" on the page."
Says who?
In Pinker's talk above he makes a point of stressing that there aren't any shadowy grammatical arbiters hiding behind the curtain. No one guides the evolution of language but the language users. You might think it's the lexicographers behind it though, right? - the men and women who archive current language in dictionaries. Nope. Lexicographers survey current trends in language and throw them into their dictionaries. It's that simple. There are no gatekeepers. Not really.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think we should throw out punctuation and grammar; it's there for a reason. Clear and concise writing would be impossible without the correct tools. But there's a difference between a functional rule and a traditional one. Spare a thought for the swathes of non-native English speakers trying to get their head around spellings like yacht, or cough, or knight.
I taught English for a few years. When confronted in the classroom about these kinds of spelling oddities, there's little else to do but shrug, apologise on behalf of your language, and insist that English is absolutely mental. Especially British English, I'm afraid.
Language is fluid. Nobody is conducting the orchestra. If they claim they are, if they assert some god-given right to quash a new word of yours, or step on a literary flourish, chalk it up to a superiority complex.
As I said, this isn't a call to abandon punctuation and good grammar. Our language is beautiful, one of the richest in the world. But it got that way - as with everything interesting on the planet - through mutation.
As the old adage goes, if you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.
He articulated something I've been thinking for years now, but couldn't quite put my finger on. Conventions are totally made up.
I think that if you're going to attempt to get good at something, you should see how the experts got to be the experts. I wanted to become a better writer, so I spent a while reading about what others writers - good writers, had done. I remember coming across a list of ten tips for writing by Jonathan Franzen and being horrified.
"Never use the word "then" as a conjunction – we have "and" for this purpose. Substituting "then" is the lazy or tone-deaf writer's non-solution to the problem of too many "ands" on the page."
Says who?
In Pinker's talk above he makes a point of stressing that there aren't any shadowy grammatical arbiters hiding behind the curtain. No one guides the evolution of language but the language users. You might think it's the lexicographers behind it though, right? - the men and women who archive current language in dictionaries. Nope. Lexicographers survey current trends in language and throw them into their dictionaries. It's that simple. There are no gatekeepers. Not really.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think we should throw out punctuation and grammar; it's there for a reason. Clear and concise writing would be impossible without the correct tools. But there's a difference between a functional rule and a traditional one. Spare a thought for the swathes of non-native English speakers trying to get their head around spellings like yacht, or cough, or knight.
I taught English for a few years. When confronted in the classroom about these kinds of spelling oddities, there's little else to do but shrug, apologise on behalf of your language, and insist that English is absolutely mental. Especially British English, I'm afraid.
Language is fluid. Nobody is conducting the orchestra. If they claim they are, if they assert some god-given right to quash a new word of yours, or step on a literary flourish, chalk it up to a superiority complex.
As I said, this isn't a call to abandon punctuation and good grammar. Our language is beautiful, one of the richest in the world. But it got that way - as with everything interesting on the planet - through mutation.
As the old adage goes, if you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.
The Perils of Self-Publishing: Adventures in Self-Esteem
I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine. His name is Absurdly Critical Inner Voice. I say friend. I mean it in the same way that you might be fond of ebola, a kick in the face, or being awoken by an air horn.
Absurdly Critical Inner Voice, or ACIV, has been a close follower of my work for some years. He never fails to speak up.
Don't get me wrong. I love criticism, honestly I do. But ACIV isn't so much a critic, as an expert saboteur. He also thinks himself qualified to comment on a number of issues besides my work, such as: my dress sense, my haircut, and my choice in sexual partners.
Yes. ACIV has always been there for me.
About 6 months ago I pulled away from a traditional publishing deal after getting wind of just how arduous it would be to get through. I'd been reading about self-publishing and thought, Well, if I'm really any good, maybe I can just make it in the indie world instead and maintain total freedom over my work.
ACIV had some strong opinions about this approach and immediately took the opportunity to chime in.
ACIV: What's this indie nonsense all about?
Alex: I'm going to edit all my own stuff and put it up online.
ACIV: Right.
Alex: Lots of people are doing it at the moment, and some are even making a living from it.
ACIV: Uh huh.
Alex: What?
ACIV: No, nothing. Sounds like a great idea.
Alex: Thanks for your support. This is very uncharacteristic of you, but I'm sure it's sincere.
ACIV: You're welcome. Your books are fantastic so I'm sure you'll be fine. Why, I'm sure what the world needs right now is more pompous diatribes about a twenty-something's uninformed opinions on the world.
Alex: Is there any hot chocolate in the house?
ACIV: And you're going to promote yourself too, are you?
Alex: I was planning on it, yes.
ACIV: That sounds like a wonderful plan. What are you going to sell yourself with first? Your poor grasp on grammar, or hopeless composition?
Alex: Yeah. Okay.
ACIV: Other people are doing this too huh?
Alex: Yes, Hugh Howey for example. He also writes sci-fi and he's done very well for himself.
ACIV: Arguably because Hugh Howey can actually write.
Alex: I want some hot chocolate.
And so on and so on.
Several months ago I started taking indie publishing seriously. I put my first work of fiction up on Amazon (I won't plug it, you can find it on my Who Be You page if you're particularly interested) and moved onto the next book. I have 8 that I've been sitting on for about five years, books I slaved over and subsequently forgot about. So I started going through the motions of proofing, editing, and tidying them up.
Then something interesting happened.
I found that writing isn't actually that hard. Well, it is – obviously, just like any craft. But it isn't that hard compared to self-promotion.
Writing takes diligence and turning up at the desk everyday, and lots of stylistic decision making. But it doesn't require much of an immediate belief in yourself. Not really. You write based on your own taste, the kind of book you'd want to read yourself. And then you put one word in front of another, lots, and eventually, if all goes well, you have a book.
I'm done, you think. Done! Look! A book! With words, and punctuation, and characters, and twists, and metaphors, and everything!
The interesting part for me was finding out that in the indie world, on the completion of months or years of work, the fun has only just begun. If you're just starting out, you're still basically anonymous. Reviewers have no idea who you are. You have no audience. You're going to need to sell your books based on little more than a few paragraphs of blurb. And that's difficult.
It's difficult because if, like me, you have your own ACIV jabbering away constantly, reminding you of your ineptitude, and naivety, and poor choice in sexual partners, you're likely to get pulled down by it. And it requires some considerable effort to get back up.
It requires, I've found, an unwavering devotion to getting your work out there, to not stopping work for the day until you've emailed one hundred reviewers, edited two more chapters, and begged yet another ereader site to take on your new book.
And it only takes one fruit of that work to come good to remind you of why you're doing this in the first place. An email thanking you for taking the time to flesh out some character, or commending your style, or just saying hello – and wishing you well, asking you to keep going. An unexpected rise in book sales for absolutely no reason. A shout-out from someone you've never even spoken to before.
These are the small things, I have found, that deal a huge amount of damage to ACIV. Because he can keep jabbering, he can yap all he likes, but it's hard to stand up to unprovoked kindness from strangers.
Honestly, I'm glad ACIV is there. Days when things are going well, it's a two-pronged success: Things are going well, but even better, ACIV doesn't have a leg to stand on. His attempted acts of sabotage have fallen flat.
Then he just has to revert to commenting on your general appearance instead. And I'm fine with that.
Absurdly Critical Inner Voice, or ACIV, has been a close follower of my work for some years. He never fails to speak up.
Don't get me wrong. I love criticism, honestly I do. But ACIV isn't so much a critic, as an expert saboteur. He also thinks himself qualified to comment on a number of issues besides my work, such as: my dress sense, my haircut, and my choice in sexual partners.
Yes. ACIV has always been there for me.
About 6 months ago I pulled away from a traditional publishing deal after getting wind of just how arduous it would be to get through. I'd been reading about self-publishing and thought, Well, if I'm really any good, maybe I can just make it in the indie world instead and maintain total freedom over my work.
ACIV had some strong opinions about this approach and immediately took the opportunity to chime in.
ACIV: What's this indie nonsense all about?
Alex: I'm going to edit all my own stuff and put it up online.
ACIV: Right.
Alex: Lots of people are doing it at the moment, and some are even making a living from it.
ACIV: Uh huh.
Alex: What?
ACIV: No, nothing. Sounds like a great idea.
Alex: Thanks for your support. This is very uncharacteristic of you, but I'm sure it's sincere.
ACIV: You're welcome. Your books are fantastic so I'm sure you'll be fine. Why, I'm sure what the world needs right now is more pompous diatribes about a twenty-something's uninformed opinions on the world.
Alex: Is there any hot chocolate in the house?
ACIV: And you're going to promote yourself too, are you?
Alex: I was planning on it, yes.
ACIV: That sounds like a wonderful plan. What are you going to sell yourself with first? Your poor grasp on grammar, or hopeless composition?
Alex: Yeah. Okay.
ACIV: Other people are doing this too huh?
Alex: Yes, Hugh Howey for example. He also writes sci-fi and he's done very well for himself.
ACIV: Arguably because Hugh Howey can actually write.
Alex: I want some hot chocolate.
And so on and so on.
Several months ago I started taking indie publishing seriously. I put my first work of fiction up on Amazon (I won't plug it, you can find it on my Who Be You page if you're particularly interested) and moved onto the next book. I have 8 that I've been sitting on for about five years, books I slaved over and subsequently forgot about. So I started going through the motions of proofing, editing, and tidying them up.
Then something interesting happened.
I found that writing isn't actually that hard. Well, it is – obviously, just like any craft. But it isn't that hard compared to self-promotion.
Writing takes diligence and turning up at the desk everyday, and lots of stylistic decision making. But it doesn't require much of an immediate belief in yourself. Not really. You write based on your own taste, the kind of book you'd want to read yourself. And then you put one word in front of another, lots, and eventually, if all goes well, you have a book.
I'm done, you think. Done! Look! A book! With words, and punctuation, and characters, and twists, and metaphors, and everything!
The interesting part for me was finding out that in the indie world, on the completion of months or years of work, the fun has only just begun. If you're just starting out, you're still basically anonymous. Reviewers have no idea who you are. You have no audience. You're going to need to sell your books based on little more than a few paragraphs of blurb. And that's difficult.
It's difficult because if, like me, you have your own ACIV jabbering away constantly, reminding you of your ineptitude, and naivety, and poor choice in sexual partners, you're likely to get pulled down by it. And it requires some considerable effort to get back up.
It requires, I've found, an unwavering devotion to getting your work out there, to not stopping work for the day until you've emailed one hundred reviewers, edited two more chapters, and begged yet another ereader site to take on your new book.
And it only takes one fruit of that work to come good to remind you of why you're doing this in the first place. An email thanking you for taking the time to flesh out some character, or commending your style, or just saying hello – and wishing you well, asking you to keep going. An unexpected rise in book sales for absolutely no reason. A shout-out from someone you've never even spoken to before.
These are the small things, I have found, that deal a huge amount of damage to ACIV. Because he can keep jabbering, he can yap all he likes, but it's hard to stand up to unprovoked kindness from strangers.
Honestly, I'm glad ACIV is there. Days when things are going well, it's a two-pronged success: Things are going well, but even better, ACIV doesn't have a leg to stand on. His attempted acts of sabotage have fallen flat.
Then he just has to revert to commenting on your general appearance instead. And I'm fine with that.
Three Things Consistently Wrong With Self-Published Books
Well, what a brave new world this is. The authors have wrestled back control of the means of production, publishing companies are taking a massive hit, and almost anything goes. Just take a second to look at AuthorEarnings and their reports. I think the self-published royalties are enough to speak for themselves.
It's been said a thousand times before, but there really never has been a better time to be a writer. If you really want to go it alone - no editor, no cover artist - you could feasibly put up a book on Amazon for literally zilch, no expense incurred, and if it's good enough, make a reasonable amount from the sales.
But there's a hitch.
I read a lot of self-published work. As someone who writes it myself, I feel a sort of moral responsibility to keep the community alive in my own small way. There's some great stuff out there, easily rivalling, or bettering, a lot of the published material on the primary shelves of international book stores. But let's be honest. There's also a lot of rubbish.
The gatekeepers are stepping back. That much is obvious. But with that process comes a penalty. Now anybody can get their work out there. I don't doubt that everyone is a potentially decent writer, but there are some consistent mistakes getting in the way. And I don't even mean the writing itself. So, here's a cursory list of some of the immediate turn-offs I come across in my day-to-day stroll through the digital bookshelves of Amazon.
1. Terrible Cover Art
The usual caricature of an author is one of a destitute alcoholic, prying open the next tin of dog food because it was cheaper than baked beans. Fair enough, lots of authors are broke. But that is literally no excuse for bad cover art. It's superficial to say, but it's true: the front cover of a book is the first contact a reader will usually have with your work, and the first chance they'll have to evaluate your professionalism. If it's pixelated, or ugly, this reflects extremely badly on however great that novel of yours is.
There isn't much excuse for this in 2015. With the self-publishing industry booming, plenty of sites have risen up to take care of this, and inexpensively. Myself, I use James at Goonwrite. I haven't found a better cover artist to date, and his prices are insanely reasonable. (I should say that I'm not in any way affiliated with James or his work, I just admire his designs.)
If you really want to go it alone, a few hours on photoshop could land you something equally as professional looking as any cover artist could do, if you have the skills and eye for it. Don't slack on the cover. It's the first thing the reader sees.
2. Terrible Proofing/Editing
I'm in the worst possible position to be lecturing about this. A year or so ago I finished my first book, How to Build a God, and excitedly sent it off to a formatter I found in about 2 minutes on Google. I was just blown away that I'd finished a book at all, to be honest. I couldn't wait to get it up online. Sure enough, when the formatted copy came back, I threw it up on Amazon, and waited. A few people liked it. Others were quite vocal about the sloppy editing however, as well as the occasional typo. And I don't blame them. If I notice a typo in a book, I put it down. The author obviously hasn't put much care and attention into its presentation. If they didn't believe in their work, why should I?
I took the book down and learned my lesson. These days, after the final draft is done, I go through my books with a comb, reading it 30 to 40 times. Yes, it's tedious. Yes, you begin to doubt yourself. Yes, you want to take an overdose of barbiturates. But the sense of satisfaction at the end is second to none. You know that it's as error-free as it can possibly be, that you don't need to lie awake at night worrying about some effect/affect mixup that'll completely undermine the book you spent years writing.
Equally well, for the financially more secure of you out there, editors are all over the net, and willing to take your manuscript for a reasonable price. I've tried it a few times and for the most part they're wonderful. They have a vested interest in making your work as good as it possibly can be, and if they're up to the job - as they almost always are - they'll do just that. There's nothing worse than finding a typo of plot inconsistency in your own work months later after hundreds/thousands of people have bought it. You can edit the book, but you can't edit a reader's memory.
3. Terrible Writing
Ah, this is rather a difficult one - isn't it? The whole game is completely subjective, who am I to say what's terrible writing, and what isn't? I wouldn't claim that power; I hope no one would. But there is such a thing as sloppy writing, certainly. And the sloppiest habit I know is: egotistical writing. I'm guilty of this one myself, probably. When I look back through the trash I used to write in my teens, all I can see beneath the words is, Look at me! I'm so original and unique! A number of books - memoirs, I've found - are designed with promotion of the author in mind, and only the promotion of the author. The reader can pick this up in a second. Constant preoccupation with trying to communicate how talented the author is, or how many words he/she knows, or how many strange literary techniques he/she has picked up, does little to draw a reader in.
When you really think about it, writing is human programming. You input information with a desired effect. Hopefully the output is what you wanted. Those diodes lighting up in your mind as you write your masterpiece, you hope they'll light up in the reader's mind too when they actually come to read it. It's a form of coding. Books have been around a long while now. Readers are pretty clued up to cheap tricks. They'll smell it a mile off.
Ahhh, you say, but what about the Fifty Shades of Grey of the world? What about the Twilights, etc. Well, they served a purpose. That much is obvious. Millions of people found something they needed in those books and bought them. They weren't necessarily well written, but the code did what the code was supposed to. They found their niche and they filled it well.
Equally well, all books have a niche, yours included. With enough time, and with an adequate foundation, (a good cover, good editing, and good writing) you're bound to find yours too. The three items above have just been foundations, nothing more. They're the pillars your novel stands on. They won't save a terrible book, but they could certainly ruin a good one. Get them right, and the rest follows automatically.
It's been said a thousand times before, but there really never has been a better time to be a writer. If you really want to go it alone - no editor, no cover artist - you could feasibly put up a book on Amazon for literally zilch, no expense incurred, and if it's good enough, make a reasonable amount from the sales.
But there's a hitch.
I read a lot of self-published work. As someone who writes it myself, I feel a sort of moral responsibility to keep the community alive in my own small way. There's some great stuff out there, easily rivalling, or bettering, a lot of the published material on the primary shelves of international book stores. But let's be honest. There's also a lot of rubbish.
The gatekeepers are stepping back. That much is obvious. But with that process comes a penalty. Now anybody can get their work out there. I don't doubt that everyone is a potentially decent writer, but there are some consistent mistakes getting in the way. And I don't even mean the writing itself. So, here's a cursory list of some of the immediate turn-offs I come across in my day-to-day stroll through the digital bookshelves of Amazon.
1. Terrible Cover Art
The usual caricature of an author is one of a destitute alcoholic, prying open the next tin of dog food because it was cheaper than baked beans. Fair enough, lots of authors are broke. But that is literally no excuse for bad cover art. It's superficial to say, but it's true: the front cover of a book is the first contact a reader will usually have with your work, and the first chance they'll have to evaluate your professionalism. If it's pixelated, or ugly, this reflects extremely badly on however great that novel of yours is.
There isn't much excuse for this in 2015. With the self-publishing industry booming, plenty of sites have risen up to take care of this, and inexpensively. Myself, I use James at Goonwrite. I haven't found a better cover artist to date, and his prices are insanely reasonable. (I should say that I'm not in any way affiliated with James or his work, I just admire his designs.)
If you really want to go it alone, a few hours on photoshop could land you something equally as professional looking as any cover artist could do, if you have the skills and eye for it. Don't slack on the cover. It's the first thing the reader sees.
2. Terrible Proofing/Editing
I'm in the worst possible position to be lecturing about this. A year or so ago I finished my first book, How to Build a God, and excitedly sent it off to a formatter I found in about 2 minutes on Google. I was just blown away that I'd finished a book at all, to be honest. I couldn't wait to get it up online. Sure enough, when the formatted copy came back, I threw it up on Amazon, and waited. A few people liked it. Others were quite vocal about the sloppy editing however, as well as the occasional typo. And I don't blame them. If I notice a typo in a book, I put it down. The author obviously hasn't put much care and attention into its presentation. If they didn't believe in their work, why should I?
I took the book down and learned my lesson. These days, after the final draft is done, I go through my books with a comb, reading it 30 to 40 times. Yes, it's tedious. Yes, you begin to doubt yourself. Yes, you want to take an overdose of barbiturates. But the sense of satisfaction at the end is second to none. You know that it's as error-free as it can possibly be, that you don't need to lie awake at night worrying about some effect/affect mixup that'll completely undermine the book you spent years writing.
Equally well, for the financially more secure of you out there, editors are all over the net, and willing to take your manuscript for a reasonable price. I've tried it a few times and for the most part they're wonderful. They have a vested interest in making your work as good as it possibly can be, and if they're up to the job - as they almost always are - they'll do just that. There's nothing worse than finding a typo of plot inconsistency in your own work months later after hundreds/thousands of people have bought it. You can edit the book, but you can't edit a reader's memory.
3. Terrible Writing
Ah, this is rather a difficult one - isn't it? The whole game is completely subjective, who am I to say what's terrible writing, and what isn't? I wouldn't claim that power; I hope no one would. But there is such a thing as sloppy writing, certainly. And the sloppiest habit I know is: egotistical writing. I'm guilty of this one myself, probably. When I look back through the trash I used to write in my teens, all I can see beneath the words is, Look at me! I'm so original and unique! A number of books - memoirs, I've found - are designed with promotion of the author in mind, and only the promotion of the author. The reader can pick this up in a second. Constant preoccupation with trying to communicate how talented the author is, or how many words he/she knows, or how many strange literary techniques he/she has picked up, does little to draw a reader in.
When you really think about it, writing is human programming. You input information with a desired effect. Hopefully the output is what you wanted. Those diodes lighting up in your mind as you write your masterpiece, you hope they'll light up in the reader's mind too when they actually come to read it. It's a form of coding. Books have been around a long while now. Readers are pretty clued up to cheap tricks. They'll smell it a mile off.
Ahhh, you say, but what about the Fifty Shades of Grey of the world? What about the Twilights, etc. Well, they served a purpose. That much is obvious. Millions of people found something they needed in those books and bought them. They weren't necessarily well written, but the code did what the code was supposed to. They found their niche and they filled it well.
Equally well, all books have a niche, yours included. With enough time, and with an adequate foundation, (a good cover, good editing, and good writing) you're bound to find yours too. The three items above have just been foundations, nothing more. They're the pillars your novel stands on. They won't save a terrible book, but they could certainly ruin a good one. Get them right, and the rest follows automatically.
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