New Interview: Darling Axe

I had the privilege of completing a new interview, this time with the folks over at Darling Axe. See the full interview here.

5) Are there any recent changes or trends in the publishing industry that you think authors should know about?

To be honest, I think the more interesting questions here are: What hasn’t the publishing industry done yet? What are we missing here? There exists a lot of innovation in terms of technology and marketing that would foster an even more deeply solvent industry that is being untapped, and the reason is that most authors and editors and publishers and agents are raised by the industry only; they are not necessarily raised in innovative corporate or non-profit infrastructures, or infrastructures that are striving to excel at understanding or reaching people as they are in their experience.

On Making Novels a Game that You Play

Why do people love to write? (Or, well, perhaps–why do people who read and write like I do like to read and write? This may be the more fair, better question, and this post an incipient intro into writing as a form of game theory, which I think applies to more writers than one might expect, even if they’ve never thought of their own writing as a game that they play.)

It is as basic as this: What is every scene in a novel, if not one part of an equation? What is every chapter in a novel, if not one part of an equation?

The genius part is: It’s the way that you write a scene, to create an experience, that makes possible the pure transcending of the mathematization of writing, and the genius of the poetry you bring into writing elevates this mathematical beauty into sheer literary art; into a sort of unbounded, open-ended spontaneity for which only few mathematical equations allow.

scene a + scene b + scene c = chapter a


+ scene a ≠ scene b ≠ scene c;

+ scene a < scene b < scene c; and

+ each < sign refers to the degree to which there is a contingency or dependency upon the content of the scene that precedes it (layers).

chapter a + chapter b + chapter c + chapter d + chapter xyz = novel


+ chapter a ≠ chapter b ≠ chapter c, etc.;

+ chapter a < chapter b < chapter c, etc.; and

+ each < sign refers to the degree to which there is a contingency or dependency upon the content of the chapter that precedes it (layers).

So: What are you doing as a writer? You are “design thinking” your way into every scene, and with every scene, into every chapter, and with every scene-scene and scene–>scene and scene–>chapter and chapter-chapter and chapter–>chapter and chapters–>full novel combination, you are growing out a matrix for the plot arc which informs the evolution and growth of content.

Think as simple as this: Your novel revolves around the story of a young boy who is traumatized sexually by his mother, who “schmoozed” at him as a young boy and turned him into a sexual caricature for herself. What is the “design think” work that can–and, I would say, needs to–go into the design of the novel that you are writing, during the preparatory, writing, and editorial phases? What is the game that you need to play with all of the military pieces that you are laying out, from piece one to two to three to one hundred, in order to elevate the compactness and tightness and–far beyond these other pieces–the intentionality of every scene?

To do the brainstorming and structural work in advance, to know the shape of the whole scene before you write and re-write, changes the entire writing and reading process.

This boy, as an example:

Scene A: moment of trauma of sexual abuse [content of actual scene; to show what is reality]; to demonstrate the reality of trauma, of family life, of the character, of his coping mechanisms [purpose of the actual scene; the explanation/telling/interpretation of what we see of reality, not actually broken on the page but clear in what is shown and how it is shown]

Scene B: moment of secondary trauma of sexual abuse–the lack of belief from teacher at school the next morning [content of actual scene]; to increase the tension of sexual abuse, given that it requires immediate healing and intervention, but this boy cannot find it, because his female teacher is the same as his mother [purpose of the actual scene]

Scene X, scenes later: moment of generational trauma, when this boy-turned-father sexually traumatizes his own child in front of a stranger, half-mindlessly [content of actual scene]; to show the generational effects of trauma, to cast the boy in a redemptive light in the unfolding of some severe intervention on behalf of a stranger on the street who stands in witness of the unfolding trauma [purpose of the actual scene]

Learn to model out your scenes. Spend some time with the distinctions–learn your purpose, and then choose the scene that attains to it in the best way, grasping that the way in which you begin, move through, and end your scene is going to have huge repercussions on the way in which your plot actually unfolds, and the way in which your pacing determines its strength, beginning to end.

Literary agent Donald Maass talks about scene internal and external turning points: those concrete ‘points of movement’ around which every scene turns, and the point for which that scene is written. Internal turning points hinge around a character’s motivations or intents, while external turning points hinge around an event that happens or some other exteriorizing in the content of the novel.

Have you thought through every single scene in your novel with this purpose and intent in mind, and stripped every scene that misses a turning point, or that provides it roughly, imperfectly, or not at all? This is the work that requires manifesting the essentiality of what and how and why you are writing the scene in the first place.

His books, The Fire in Fiction and Writing the Breakout Novel especially, are essential conduits to really genius fiction writing–that fiction that reads like a scene is breathlessly picked up out of nowhere and compiled so efficiently and brilliantly that it hurts to read it, and it is such because the author thought a lot about the individual scene before s/he wrote it. You can tell this kind of intentionality in an instance, and I would say that, in the years that I’ve represented fiction, 90% of my authors has excelled beyond belief in an intentionality that is really capturing and distinct.

My favorite examples of published giant novels, in terms of easy-to-parse beginning pages, are Anthony Doerr’s Pulitzer Prize-winning All the Light We Cannot See, Laini Taylor’s Printz Prize-winning Strange the Dreamer, and Sara J. Henry’s Agatha Award for Best First Novel-winning Learning to Swim.

“The Court of the Land”

That one time I broke another poem, because I was thinking about the Supreme Court in the hospital, and am thinking about the Court again, given impeachment moves. #whenwthinks

a perfect oddity of numbers–

nine, black-robed;

backs bent over papers typed,

typefaces archaic,

stacks never-ending–

a law built to honor,

to protect that person,

which they also are:

persons first, to citizens be, to judges become,

legalities so made,

to remember the first,

to always be.

A Quick Public Note RE: Medical Leave

Dear Friends,

I spent five weeks on medical leave (8/5-8/20, and again 8/22-9/12) without any real access to my phone or computer, and thus my email, following a freak accident. Think a period of disassociation, amnesia, and symptoms of a traumatic brain injury, where there actually wasn’t one. There exists a short time period from which I remember little to nothing–some things have left significant and severe memory gaps; I don’t remember most of what happened in the days that led up to these hospitalizations.

I’m working through a backlog of emails and other correspondence in order to put puzzle pieces together, but this included the pre-emptive announcement of some good things (including the now-formalized announcement of moves for Gearbreakers film realities–updated 10/7) and some public confusion over others. All was non-intentional (I know there have been some questions!); our brain has the capacity to do weird things, and mine sort of defected neurologically for a short bit.

Given that I’m one who lives very deeply intentionally oriented to health, across all dimensions (spiritual, emotional, and intellectual-mental), these events were totally out of the ordinary for me, and ultimately not indicative of me–a one-off, of a kind that’s hard to explain!

Where there is some degree of emotional maturity and intelligence, this does not impair any kind of authentic, honest, and hard-working relationship, work- or personal-wise, and I was gladly discharged from the hospital on Thursday with a total green light to return to work!

I don’t anticipate there being any additional medical problems, but I did want to note this in public, in case you notice any shifts here that have come about as a result of the medical leave, including work now with my own literary agency, founded to respond to a greater freedom in strategic planning and an eye towards the kind of non-fiction list that I want to build.

I look forward to reviewing queries and manuscripts submitted, and hope to respond to absolutely everything that remains in my inbox.

It’s a total and utter joy to be back, with the goal of building a stable and healthy list of fiction and non-fiction. From this perspective, nothing changes–the same wishlist remains.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out:

I’m happy to answer any/all questions, and get on the phone with anyone who may have any more of them.

Warm wishes, and until soon,