I have the following problem: most times it’s easy for me to come up with a conflict for a story, but sometimes, such as the current book I’m writing, I find it difficult to come up with something of big scale.

Leila goes on to give a few details of her particular manuscript, but the main thing I think she wants to know is how to create more tension in the storyline, and how to make the conflicts and problems matter more.

Anytime this sort of question or issue comes up as I’m editing for a client, I always point them to a set of my favorite writing reference books: Donald Maass’ Writing the Breakout Novel, and the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. Maass is a literary agent who has a knack for helping writers see what makes for a strong story and creating excellent writing exercises to help you get there. For Leila and anyone else who wants to make their story tension stronger, I recommend starting with these two books.

Maass is fond of asking writers “How can you make this matter MORE?” and that is the question I’d have for Leila. There are a few ways to make a primary conflict in a novel matter more.

1) Make it more personal. In Leila’s story, she has a group of medical personnel trapped in a building to prevent them from creating an important cure for a disease. If one of the main characters is among those people being held in the building, then Leila can create all sorts of reasons why this is causing problems for that character. Perhaps the character has a child on the outside that needs her. Or maybe her own father is dying of that disease, and if she can escape in time, she could complete the cure and save her dad. Perhaps she had a fight with her husband before she was captured, and now she worries her husband will think she’s left him. There are millions of ways to intensify the tension and conflict simply by making it matter more to the character on a personal level.

2) Make it more universal. To make a conflict bigger, make it affect more people. If they are being held in a building so they won’t complete a cure for a disease, then you’d better let that disease become an epidemic that is threatening the whole country. Or see what other far-reaching threats you can heap on the people being held hostage. What if there was a huge catastrophe and the medical staff being held hostage have to try to talk inexperienced people on the outside through handling the crisis?

3) Make the consequences of failure more serious. What if the medical staff–in addition to being held hostage–find out that the rebel forces not only plan to prevent them from finishing the cure, what if they plan on using the cure as a poison to assassinate the government leader? And then what if they plan to blame the medical staff, ensuring neatly that they will all be executed for treason? What if the child mentioned in #1 is kidnapped unless her mother agrees to work for the rebels? Anytime you can increase the risk and make failing even worse, you will increase the tension.

4) Allow the protagonist to fail at their Story Goal. What could you do that would seem to make it impossible for the protagonist to succeed? Do it. And then find a way for your protagonist to claw their way back to success. Too often, we’re too afraid to let our hero fail. But coming back from certain destruction creates huge tension in the story.

Hopefully, that will generate some ideas for you, Leila. Be bold and always ask “How can I make things WORSE for my character?” An author friend of mine, Elaine Isaak, signs all her emails “You do NOT want to be my hero!” and I think that’s an excellent attitude to take—we want to make being a hero in our books an extremely challenging, often unpleasant, proposition. It is the very best way to keep the reader turning pages.

Today, I’m explaining how many fiction writers handle these very discouraging facts in their attempts to make a living at writing fiction. It’s not a very positive scenario–I’ll be the first to admit it. But fiction writers need to know what reality is before they get into the middle of it.

Here is the conclusion of my 2-part post on earning money by writing fiction:

So how does this all affect your ability to earn a living writing fiction? If you are a debut or mid-list author, you can’t budget based on royalties. Many, many mid-list books never earn out the advance. So you have to expect that the advance (minus your agent’s share) is all the money you’ll see for that book.

You also have to account for the spacing of the advance payments. You could sign a contract late in 2010, turn in revisions in 2011, and the book might come out in 2012. There is no feasible way you can earn a living with spaced payments like that unless the advance was close to 6 figures or more.

There are a couple of ways authors deal with this. First, they often pitch multiple books for a single contract. This means they get a bigger advance–because it covers all the novels the publisher is buying. If—for example—you sign a 3-book contract, you might get a third of the ENTIRE amount on signing the contract, and then get one-third of one-third of the advance when you turn in the first book, another one-third of one-third when that book is released, and then so on for the remaining two books. This can help an author a lot, especially if the books are released fairly close together. But when it comes to royalties, you usually will not earn royalties on any of the books until the ENTIRE advance for all three is earned out–even if the first book earns out its share of the advance. Also, this locks you into a long-term relationship with your publisher, in an industry where things change overnight, so sometimes it becomes a risk for the author (which could be a whole post in itself, so I won’t go into more details right now).

Another way authors deal with this is by trying to write more novels and have them released more often. Some authors do this better than others. Did you ever have a favorite author whose first book is amazing, but whose subsequent works seem to be getting worse and less original? Chances are, the author is writing more quickly than they really should, and their quality of work suffers for it. The risk of burnout is very high when you load up on deadlines. But the only other option is to not earn enough money to pay the bills.

This is all very discouraging, I realize. But I think it’s better for fiction writers to pursue publication with their eyes wide open. This is why Randy and other writing teachers warn you not to count on quitting your day job for quite awhile. The mid-listers who eventually can support themselves by writing fiction do so after they have several books that stay in print, earn out advances, and when they develop a loyal following of readers. If they can accumulate royalties on many books, then they have a chance at making a living at it. But until then, it’s nearly impossible without getting a break-out book that sells well.

It’s possible that as digital books become more popular, some of this might change. It could change a LOT. But I think that there will always be a sizable period of time for most fiction writers in which they cannot support themselves with their published novels. Hopefully, we will find innovative ways to improve the scenario, but at this point, that’s the cold reality.

So, Alexandra, all this is why it would be wisest to plan for a back-up source of income as you are building your writing career.

Have a fiction writing question? Ask it here!

Randy, what do you mean by ‘the pay is not good enough to do it as a job’?  I am hoping to make a career out of writing novel. I do, however, need to pay the bills too.  Could you give an idea on the payment scenarios?  It would be very helpful.  Thank you.

Well, Alexandra, I hope it’s okay if I take a stab at answering your question. It’s not a simple answer, so I’ve broken it into two parts. I think it’s a really important question that published writers tend not to explain enough to up-and-coming fiction writers. We don’t talk about it probably because it’s not a very encouraging answer for most of us.

The truth is that the VAST majority of published novelists cannot support themselves, much less a family, on just their writing. This is especially true of those who are debut authors. Yes, we hear about the big deals, the instant bestseller debuts, the cult followings–but you hear about them because they are not that common. Most of us make up the class of fiction writers known as the “Mid-list.” Our books sell well enough to keep publishers interested in publishing us, but not well enough to make us bestsellers.

Here’s how traditional royalty-paying publishing works. When you’re offered a contract for your fiction manuscript, it comes with an advance. For a first-time author, it can be as low as $3,000 or $7,000 per book. Of course, sometimes it’s higher–depending on the publisher and how many copies of your book they think will sell in the first year it is published. But since we’re being brutally realistic here, let’s use the lower end. We’ll say $10,000 is your advance on your first book.

You don’t get that entire amount all at once. A lot of publishers are now splitting the advance into three payments. They pay the first when you sign the contract–so about $3300. They pay the second usually when you turn in the main revisions on your fiction manuscript–which is another $3300 or so. The third payment comes when the book is released–for another $3400.

Because print books don’t come out right away, these three payments can be spread out over 2-3 YEARS. Additionally, if you have an agent–which is almost required these days–you can subtract 15% from each of those amounts for your agent’s commission.

When the book comes out, you will not be paid another dime until you have “earned out” that advance. This means the royalties you earn from each sale of the book (usually around 7-8% of the retail price, though it’s figured differently for discounted books, global sales, and various formats) are held until that amount reaches $10,000. After that, then you will be paid royalties on additional sales. Usually, you can figure you’ll get a little less than $1.00 in royalties per book–so this means that your novel has to sell over 10,000 copies in order to earn out your advance. And remember that if you do get royalties, 15% automatically goes to your agent.

Another thing that publishers do is to hold “reserves.” Because bookstores can return books, just because the publisher has shipped 10,000 copies of your novel does not mean that 10,000 copies have actually been purchased by consumers. Publishers get a sampling of actual sales numbers from a certain set of stores, and then they have formulas for estimating the actual sales amount. But until they start getting books returned, they have no idea whether the books they’ve shipped are actual sales or not. So in their accounting, they hold back a certain number of the shipped novels in “reserve”–so they don’t end up paying you royalties on books that later get returned instead of sold. The number of pay periods they are allowed to do this is specified in your contract. Typically, it ends up being about 2 years. This means that even if your book has shipped, say, 14,000 copies, and it looks like you’ve earned out your advance, it still might be a couple of years before the major part of the returns are in and the publisher can tell if they actually owe you royalties or not.

This is what happens on the low end of the mid-list, remember. If your book is a hit, then it’s a lot easier to tell when it has earned out because the novel is being re-ordered, not being returned.

Now that you know how publishers pay authors, check back tomorrow for Part Two to find out ways fiction writers deal with this reality.

As always, if you’ve got a writing question, you can ask here.

I have this amazing idea in my head but I just can’t put it down on paper! For a month I’ve been sitting on front of my screen writing only one scene, and I’m lost within it and I’m afraid I can’t move on with the story, it’s so frustrating!

I keep thinking that everyone would question my style and the way I write (I’m from Egypt and Arabic is a tricky language) and everyone will underestimate the motivations of my characters, and that makes me freeze and considering giving up. Help me please!

This is a question that we could write lots of blog posts, and even entire books about. So I can’t provide that much detail in a single blog post, but I think I can offer some reassurance and encouragement for you, Ghada.

When I was writing my most recent novel, I had similar struggles to yours. Those sort of fears and uncertainties are common to writers no matter what country we live in or what language we use. I have a writing coach (Judy Baer–you can read about her on my About page) who helped me work through some of my writing insecurities using the following exercise:

• First, what are you exactly worried about? You mentioned that you feared people will question your writing style and your character motivations. List these and any and all other worries that are keeping you from feeling positive about your writing. Put them down on paper.
• For each item in your list, I want you to do something that might seem weird, but try it anyway. Give each item a physical appearance. If the item “I’m worried people will question my writing style” were a person or a creature, what would that particular worry look like? Give it a physical description, clothing, accessories, a personality, a tone of voice, an attitude. Make it a living being. Do that for each item on your list.

Our worries and insecurities are like living creatures in our heads, right? They speak to us, shouting their negative opinions into our minds. It’s like they’re in our heads having a huge party—noisy, rude, chattering. No wonder we can’t get any work done when we’re listening to them! And the thing is, we invited them into our minds ourselves. We asked all those worries to come have a party in our head. That’s not a criticism against us—it’s just how humans tend to work. Fear and worry and insecurities sometimes are useful to warn us of danger or make us think twice about our decisions. Our minds are designed to keep us safe and to protect us.

But in this case, those worries are no longer helpful. We don’t need them! Writing a novel is not something our minds need to protect us from. In most cases, a writer is not actually in danger from writing (and those who are—that’s a whole different situation). So we have every right to take back our invitation to the Worry Beasts and tell them the party is over.

So what I want you to do now is this: Speak to each individual Worry that you personified. Explain politely but firmly “Thank you for your concern and opinion, but this party is now over. I don’t need you anymore. You have to leave now.” And then send that Worry somewhere—mentally speaking. Visualize where that Worry must go, and picture that Worry leaving your party and going to wherever you send it, never to return.

I locked mine in a desk drawer at an undisclosed storage facility. Hopefully she has starved by now.

That’s the fun part of this exercise. The tricky part is that these Worry Beasts keep trying to sneak back into your head and start up a new party. You just have to be firm with them and keep returning them to where they belong. Eventually, they get the message and stay put better.

The next thing you do is then make a NEW list—this time, putting all the Truths about your writing on the paper. Things like “I am a dedicated writer” or “I have the ability to learn—I can become a GREAT writer” or “I have every right to write this novel” or “I am skilled at using my language.”

Now, go through the same process with this list as you did before–personifying each item on the list so that they are real creatures to you. Invite these Truth Creatures to a party in your mind and listen to what they are telling you. If the Worry Beasts creep back in and try to crowd out the Truth, just send them away again and ask the Truth to speak a little louder.

I think you’ll find—as I did—that as you get used to monitoring your “mental party” this way, you’ll be able to see your scene more clearly and figure out how to make it do what you want it to do. There might be some scene structure issues or character development problems that are making the scene not work the way you’d like. But until you quiet the negative voices and the worries in your head, you won’t be able to concentrate on the actual scene. So take care of those worries first, and then work on figuring out how to improve your scene.

I know you can do it, Ghada. Keep at it–we all want your story to be as amazing on paper as it is in your head.

If anyone would like more information on this type of creativity coaching, please see our Services page or contact Fiction Fix-It Shop to find out how it works. Those of you overseas, we can work out a way to coach you even if it’s through email or Skype, etc.

Have a question about writing? Ask it here.

I am trying to find information on freelance writing but I’m not really sure where to look. How does one become a freelance writer (and be successful)? Are there different types or is it all non-fiction writing?

This is a question whose answer can be as easy or complicated as we want to make it. At its base, “freelance writing” is anything that is not written for an employer. As a published novelist, I’m a freelance writer because my publisher has bought my book from me, not hired me as an employee. If I write a magazine article and sell it to the magazine, I’m still a freelance writer as long as the magazine has not hired me as an employee to write for them.

There are lots of different types of freelance writing:

• Ghost writing: where you agree to write a piece for someone else, usually with their name on it instead of yours
• Article writing: for online article banks, magazines, e-zines, newsletters, or even your own website or newsletter
• Website Content writing: this requires an understanding of how to optimize web content for search engines
• Novels: whether you pursue traditional royalty publishing, or plan to self publish
• Non-fiction books: same as above
• Memoirs
• Fan fiction
• Serialized novels
• Blogs

That’s just a sampling. As you can see, much of it is non-fiction writing, but there are plenty of fiction writing opportunities as well. Many freelance writing opportunities are ones you create for yourself.

Freelance writing can be sold or managed by yourself or it can be commissioned or purchased by someone else. Sometimes you retain certain rights to your work, other times you are selling all rights forever. It’s important to know what rights you are selling and to have that in writing. Signed agreements are important–even if you feel you can trust the person buying the piece or rights from you.

How to be a successful freelance writer? I don’t think anyone has an exact formula for that, but here are some good tips:

1. Become an excellent writer. I know that seems obvious, but it’s something we all need to constantly remind ourselves–we have to strive to improve our skills no matter how successful we are or how much experience we have. We can always find ways to improve.
2. Create a Good Plan. This includes finding a writing niche that works for you and that you’re good at. It also means deciding whether to pursue jobs that other people are offering or whether to find ways to sell your work directly to readers or publishers. How much money is your target rate? What steps will you take to get there? What business knowledge will you need to gain? What technology or tools will you need? The answers to those questions will depend on what area of freelance writing you want to make your own.
3. Stick to a Schedule. Even if you don’t have an income from your freelance writing yet, get used to keeping regular writing hours. Use that time to hunt for jobs, or to set up your website, or to send out query letters to publishers–whatever needs to be done. You have to commit time to building up your freelance writing business if you want success.
4. Educate yourself. Hang out with other freelance writers who are working in the same areas as you. Go to conferences. Read how-to books on your area of freelance writing. Search the Internet for information about being a freelance writer. It takes time to learn how any business industry works, and freelance writing is no different. You also should educate yourself about areas relating to the business aspects of being a freelance writer: marketing, promotion, running your own business, bookkeeping, taxes, virtual assistants, intellectual property rights, etc. As a freelance writer, you are an entrepreneur and small business owner, not an employee. So you have to think and act like a business owner.

All of those items could be an entire book themselves, so we can’t go into more detail here. But if you do a search for “freelance writing” on the Internet, you’ll find a huge array of sites, job boards, articles, and other resources that will help you. I hope that gives you a few ideas, J.C.–best wishes to you!

Do you have a writing question? Ask it here.

1. Marketing: Should you contact local bookstores and talk to people about possible speaking engagements even though you don’t have a book contract (and may not get one) or simply list what your strategy would be if the agent is able to get you a book contract?

No. It’s not necessary to contact bookstores or make any actual speaking arrangements at this point. In my opinion, it’s better not to, actually.

When it comes to the marketing section of a proposal, it is better to only put in specific, unique elements that YOU can bring to the marketing of this book. Everyone can say “I’ll sign books, and I’ll speak at events.” That’s almost as much of a given as saying “I’ll do whatever you want me to do to help promote the book.” It’s not enlightening to the editor or agent.

It’s better to come up with some unique, specific things that you can do that your potential publisher wouldn’t be able to do. For example, I had a novel come out in April 2010 about adopting from China. I was able to put in my proposal that I have access to two email discussion loops about Chinese adoption that total about 25,000 people who have ALL adopted from China or are in the process of. That’s a unique contribution I can make to marketing my book that my publisher has no access to.

See what unique ties and communities related to your book that you have access to, and put those in your marketing section. That will be the most effective use of that space in your proposal. If you don’t have any particular marketing contributions to make, it would be better to leave that section out entirely rather than broadcast the lack.

2. Comparable Books: How close or similar to yours does the book have to be? How do you look up sales figures for the novels? Do you have to read these books or can you go based on the descriptions from Amazon?

I base my comparisons on two main factors:  subject matter and writing style. Genre plays into both of those as well. I try to choose books that have been published in the last five years, and I aim for books that appear to be at least good sellers.

You don’t need sales numbers for the books, and actually that’s quite difficult for a writer to have access to.

It’s better if you’ve actually read the books, but a “cheat” that I sometimes do–especially if I’m looking for some titles that are stylistically similar to mine–is to read the excerpt from Amazon. That’s usually enough to let you compare writing styles. Otherwise, head to your bookstore and spend a few hours skimming through your target comparisons.

Don’t forget to also include information about how your book fills a current publishing gap. When I did the comparison for Lucky Baby (the adoption novel), I found that there had not been many novels at all–that I could find–that centered around Chinese adoption. The ones I did find approached the subject in a far different way than what I was intending to do. So I make a note of that in the proposal. You don’t want to trash other novels in the proposal, but if you are matter-of-fact and business-like in how you explain how your novel fills a current hole, that is useful information.

If your book is in a well-established genre (like romance for example) you could just as easily cover the comparison briefly in your cover letter by citing similar authors and identifying the sub-genre your book fits into.

But remember, the most important part of the proposal is having an excellent story. All the great marketing ideas in the world won’t help if your manuscript is not ready. (Fortunately, you are reading the blog of a top notch fiction editing service, and we’d love to help you polish your book proposal.)

Today’s question is from Will. He’s been looking at Randy’s article summarizing the classic writing teacher Dwight Swain’s concept of scenes and sequels, and how to structure them. It’s a great article that I often recommend to my editing clients called “Writing the Perfect Scene.” If you haven’t read it yet, you might want to check it out before you try to follow my discussion with Will.

Will asks:

I was reading your page on Dwight Swain’s Scenes and Sequels, and I don’t think I agree that every Scene must end in disaster. I can envision a Scene where the protagonist succeeds, but the reader still wants to continue reading.

For example, let’s say the protagonist’s house was broken into and some precious item was stolen. The protagonist may have a Scene where he attempts to figure out how his house was broken into. He can succeed in figuring it out, but then perhaps in doing so realizes that it was a family member who broke into his house. So he’s succeeded in his scene, there’s no disaster, but the reader still wants to continue reading to figure out which family member was the culprit and why.

Another quick example is if the protagonist must achieve 5 goals in order to succeed in the book. Just because he’s accomplished goal 1 of 5 in a Scene doesn’t mean the reader will stop reading, because there’s still 4 left to go.

So I agree that every Scene must end with some reason to compel the reader to continue reading, but that doesn’t have to be a disaster, or a failure of the protagonist reaching a goal. What are your thoughts? Do you still think every Scene must end in disaster?

Meredith says:

I think it’s important to understand what is meant by “disaster” in this context. Some people might term it a “hook” at the end of the scene or the climax of the scene. It’s the point to which the entire scene is headed. Too many scenes look like a prairie–flat and nothing to break up the sameness of it (I should know, I live on one). We want scenes to be more like driving in the mountains–twisting, turning, going up-up-up until suddenly this vista opens in front of us (or we end up teetering half over a cliff). That is what is meant by “disaster” in the context of a scene in fiction.

So in Will’s example of the break-in at the protagonist’s house, I would argue that he has instinctively created a “disaster”: the protagonist discovers that a member of her own family broke into the house. That realization is the climactic moment of the scene and it certainly is a hook, and it is–in its own personal way–a definite disaster for the protagonist’s relationship with her family.

Disasters can also be something GOOD that happens, but it must pose a greater challenge or risk to the character. For example, getting a call from your agent that he just sold your first novel is a GREAT thing–but it opens up a whole new world of uncertainties and difficulties as well. So from that aspect, it could be called a “disaster”–if we make sure to bring out those new challenges in the scene.

As far as goals go, every scene needs a Scene Goal. What is it that the POV character is trying to achieve, do, figure out, resolve, discover, avoid, etc.? When we talk about “disasters” on a scene level and not reaching a goal, we’re usually referring to the Scene Goal, not an overall Story Goal (though eventually those overlap in the course of the story).

Having your character achieve her Scene Goal in the scene is not so interesting…unless there are consequences to her success. To go back to Will’s excellent example of the break-in at Protag’s house, if Protag’s Scene Goal is “to find out who broke into my house” and then she DOES discover it–that it was a family member–she may have achieved the Scene Goal, but at the cost of her trust in her family, which is now shattered. There needs to be a cost to success to have success be interesting.

What this is all ultimately about is TENSION. When the level of tension increases in a story, the reader’s interest is more engaged. When the tension decreases, so does the reader’s interest level. We describe it in different ways and use different analogies, but basically you just need to remember to keep ratcheting up the tension if you want readers to keep flipping pages.

So yes, to answer your question, Will, every scene DOES need a “disaster” or whatever you want to call it, because it’s the tension of it that keeps the reader hooked on the story.

Thanks for letting me answer your question!

Do you have a question? Ask it on the Advanced Fiction Writing Blog question page!

Jacob writes:

How do I create Evil? (not an evil character, but just “evil”) Pure evil is a powerfull symbol, but how to give it body.

Randy points out that it’s incredibly difficult to address evil as a noun in a novel. It’s much easier, and perhaps more effective, to deal with it as an adjective–as a descriptor for what characters do. I tend to agree with that. Jacob is concerned that the portrayal of evil not be one-dimensional. He wants a fully-rounded portrayal of it in his novel. The problem is that evil by definition is one-dimensional. In order for something to be multi-dimensional and feel fully real in a novel, it has to have contradictions and contrasts and levels. That’s what makes a character feel “real.” In that sense, having only evil is–of necessity–one-dimensional. There are no contrasts or contradictions.

So, to get more practical about it, the best choice a writer can make with any aspect of a novel is to humanize it. Whether it’s a god, a supernatural force, an alien, or the Ultimate Evil–the only way readers will really relate to it is through their own human experience.

How do humans experience and express evil? They do “bad” things–lie, murder, cheat, steal, etc. But what makes it feel EVIL and not just a “poor choice” is the motive behind it. And ironically, the more understandable and laudable that motive, the more evil it becomes.

For example, I have a WIP (“work in progress”, for the newbies among us) that has a queen who loves her country and her people and hates to see them being oppressed by a neighboring nation. That’s admirable, right? But taken to an extreme, she becomes so obsessed with saving the country and bringing down the enemy that she becomes willing to sacrifice even her closest supporters and commit unspeakable atrocities in order to reach that goal. That’s evil. And it’s even more so because it starts as something “good” and goes to an extreme.

I think even the ultimate Bad Guy–Hitler–may have started out with “good” motives. The German economy was tanked, the people were suffering. Is it possible he started out with laudable intentions, and took them way too far? That’s Evil. And it’s chilling because we can relate to it. We all have good, noble motives–or at least motives that are understandable. And we all know what it’s like to cross the Line from acceptable pursuit of a goal to a corrupt, harmful obsession with it.

The best portrayal of evil in a novel will force the reader to look Evil in the face and acknowledge that they, too, possess the potential to embrace the darkness. It makes us re-evaluate what Evil is, what it looks like, how it behaves. And we have to face the fact that its true colors are more likely to be shades of gray than stark black.

So for Jacob, and any other fiction writer working through a similar issue, I would suggest personalizing your Evil Force. Give it a face. Make it influence someone we care about. Nobody is chilled by Tolkien’s Sauron. The chilling moment is when dear, sweet Frodo can’t destroy the Ring–because we know then that if Frodo can become dark, so can we. And that is when Evil becomes the darkest and most insidious. That is when it becomes the absence of Hope.

Answer:

An author friend of mine and I were talking about the new fiction projects we both are working on. She commented that she wished she could jump into a new story as easily as I do, but that she often feels afraid to write.

Now, I don’t know all the reasons for her fears. But I do know that anxiety seems to be a fairly common experience among fiction writers. Contrary to my friend’s compliment, I also sometimes feel afraid or anxious about my writing. Here are some reasons why we writers may feel anxious or fearful about beginning a new fiction manuscript:

1. Writing a novel is a huge undertaking that may require months or years to finish. What if I get stuck and run out of energy? What if I lose interest half-way through? What if I can’t think of anything to write? What does that say of me, to fail in that way?
2. Writing a novel requires a lot of emotional energy. It may require the fiction writer to confront unpleasant memories or draw on painful experiences. Conversely, it might make the fiction writer face the reality that her real life doesn’t measure up to the fictional world she has created. Even if emotional pain isn’t involved, creating authentic character emotions requires a lot of energy and effort from the fiction writer. Sometimes we just don’t feel up to the task.
3. Writing a novel requires ongoing and daily commitment. It takes a good bite of time from your day. Many fiction writers feel overwhelmed at trying to fit one more task into their daily schedules.
4. Writing a novel may involve tasks that the fiction writer finds unpleasant, such as research, plotting, revisions, or even just the writing itself. Even though we writers love to write, sometimes we hate it, too.
5. Writing a novel and finishing it means that then we must either work on submitting it to editors or agents, or–if it is already under contract–going through the process of revision, and then promotion. This can be an intimidating process

The most effective way I’ve found to deal with these writing fears is to face them head-on. Reflect on how you are feeling. Why are you afraid or anxious? List out the reasons.

Next, write out the worst-case scenario for each fear. What is the worst that could happen if that fear comes true? What will the consequences be? Usually, when we do this, we see that what we fear really holds no true threat for us. This can help us overcome that fear or anxiety.

If we still fear failure or are struggling with anxiety, maybe it’s time to talk to a creativity coach. This is what I recommended to my friend, because I have benefited from it myself. A coach can help us deal with, and then move beyond, our writing fears or anxieties.

There’s no shame in feeling afraid to write–many fiction writers feel this way. But don’t let it keep you from doing what you love or reaching your fiction writing goals.

Meredith’s Answer:

I would strongly recommend NOT putting your home phone/address on it. You don’t want to compromise your privacy that way. People are sometimes weird about writers–especially once you get published, you’re sort of a semi-celebrity once people realize you are a published author. You want to protect your private information.

If you’re giving out cards to editors or agents, your email address will be plenty for them to contact you, and your mailing address should be on every page of your book proposals anyway, so you don’t need to put it on the card.

A picture is fine, but only if it’s a professional-looking publicity type photo. No snapshots. Otherwise, keep it simple and just have your name and website and email address on it.

I would also recommend spending the money to have it professionally printed. I use gotprint.com and love it. You can even have it designed for you or choose a design off the website. It really is so much nicer looking than printing it yourself.

Good luck!