Category: Writer

  • Successful Queries: Melanie Iglesias and “Hopelessly Teavoted,” by Audrey Goldberg Ruoff

    Successful Queries: Melanie Iglesias and “Hopelessly Teavoted,” by Audrey Goldberg Ruoff

    Welcome back to the Successful Queries series. In this installment, find a query letter for Audrey Goldberg Ruoff’s debut novel, Hopelessly Teavoted, as well as thoughts from editor Melanie Iglesias.

    Audrey Goldberg Ruoff

    Audrey Goldberg Ruoff is a former high school English and journalism teacher who taught with the enthusiasm of Valerie Frizzle, but for secondary education. She lives in a suburb of Washington, DC, with her spouse, her kids, a scrappy but loyal little dog, and a witchy black cat. Hopelessly Teavoted is her debut novel.

    Here’s Audrey’s original query:

    HOPELESSLY TEAVOTED TO YOU is an 85,000 word witchy romantic comedy blending the warm banter and grounded spellwork of The Ex Hex with the bittersweet haunting of The Dead Romantics and influence from Wednesday and the rest of The Addams Family, Pushing Daisies, and Beetlejuice. It is perfect for fans of spooky season and sparkly friends-to-lovers romance.

    Azrael Ashmedai Hart, 27, has spent his life avoiding the fact that he is a witch twice named for the devil. Career flailing, when his parents die, he moves back across the country into his mysterious and spooky family manor, hoping to ignore memories of his former best friend, Vickie, the bubbly, almost normal girl-next-door he lost touch with after an incident in college. 

    Victoria Starnberger, 26, has three quarters of a business degree and a penchant for strawberry lip gloss. Her family practically owns the town, but all she wants is to run a kooky and creepy tea shop that belonged to the Hart family. And like Azrael’s family, Vickie has a supernatural secret: she can summon the dead by touching something they treasured in life.

    The catch? She can only contact the spirit for five minutes before flame devours the object. When the ghosts of his parents tip them off about a threat, Vickie and Az are forced together to save the town, but to do so, they must prevent her magic from immolating him. If it wasn’t for a semi-sentient haunted home, awkward puns, and steamy banter, it might be too much to endure.

    I teach high school English and journalism with the enthusiasm of Valerie Frizzle, but for secondary education. I live in a suburb of Washington, DC with my spouse, kids, and a scrappy but loyal little dog. 

    Thank you so much for your time.

    Audrey Goldberg Ruoff (she/her) 

    Check out Audrey Goldberg Ruoff’s Hopelessy Teavoted here:

    (WD uses affiliate links)

    What Melanie Iglesias liked about Audrey’s query:

    The letter I received on submission was a little different, sharpening the hook while still centering the characters. The first thing I look for in a query is that one-sentence elevator pitch that will captivate readers’ attention and make them want to read more. For me, The Ex Hex meets The Dead Romantics with Addams Family vibes and a dash of Pushing Daisies in a witchy rom-com with queer representation was impossible to resist!

    Firstly, Pushing Daisies is a show I loved and had never (personally) seen mentioned in a pitch letter prior to this one. And, the fact that Az and Vickie are cursed to not be able to touch (providing a thankfully—spoiler alert!—reversible twist on what kept Ned and Chuck physically apart in Pushing Daisies) felt like a prime opportunity for heightened moments of yearning and needing to find creative workarounds to physical intimacy as their relationship developed.

    Then, I fell in love with Az and Vickie. A strong hook and a commercial plot are key. But in a romance, I also need to be able to root for the characters and not only believe in but also be swept away by their chemistry. Audrey delivered a magical blend of heart, humor, and heat—weaving in themes of grief and starting over that added depth to the love story without being too heavy handed—that kept me hooked through to the last page, bringing together all the elements I look for in a romance.

    Audrey’s thoughts on querying:

    Before this book, I watched several others die painful deaths in the trenches, so I made this character-forward, hoping to leave readers as spellbound by Az and Vickie as I was writing them. I have seen the advice to keep every paragraph in a query four lines or shorter, and while this doesn’t have to be followed prescriptively, for me, doing it forced a careful edit for clarity. 

    Hopelessly Teavoted has always been spooky and sparkly, and I wanted that juxtaposition to shine through, not just in the grumpy-meets-sunshine vibes, but also in the complex themes that are at once bright and dark as Azrael grapples with death, change, and the very real heartbreak of miscommunication. I played with nods to inspiration in word choice—kooky, creepy, mysterious, spooky like the Addams family—and concept—an almost normal person next door a la Pushing Daisies—in the text of the query.

    I wanted to showcase voice and make each line syntactically mine. I also sent out an earlier version of it with “the un-boo-lievable catch” instead of just “the catch” before editing that down. In a query, it can be OK to tell, not show, as long as you tell it well. It’s a limited amount of space to sell your characters and voice enough to hook someone on the concept of your book.  

    Melanie Iglesias

    Melanie Iglesias is a Senior Editor at Atria Books. Since joining Simon & Schuster ten years ago, Melanie has worked with debut, celebrity, and New York Times bestselling authors writing in English and Spanish across fiction and nonfiction genres. Now, she focuses on romance, magical realism, contemporary with a twist, and book club fiction. Melanie’s titles include #1 New York Times bestseller IT STARTS WITH US by Colleen Hoover; national bestseller THE INHERITANCE OF ORQUÍDEA DIVINA by USA Today bestselling author Zoraida Córdova; USA Today bestseller UNLOVED by Peyton Corinne; and more. Melanie holds a bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Puerto Rico, Río Piedras, and a master’s degree in publishing from NYU.

  • 5 Steps to Avoid the Muddle in the Middle of Your Novel

    5 Steps to Avoid the Muddle in the Middle of Your Novel

    Think about the words you see in a rave book review. Pacey, right? Propulsive. Riveting. Compelling. Page-turner.

    Those are all shorthand for “fun to read,” and also for “something happens.”

    Problem is, it’s textbook-easy to begin a novel and have something happen: That’s why there’s a story, right? Something happens.

    But to keep your story going, to keep it pacey and compelling, things must keep happening. (And that’s called telling a story. Or even better, revealing a story.)

    And when faced with all those empty pages, especially as your novel moves into that intimidating but critical Act 2, it can be daunting to keep the engine of your book running at full speed. To keep the plane flying.

    5 Steps to Avoid the Muddle in the Middle

    How do you keep your story propulsive?

    Here’s a secret: Think of it as a series of five steps. A repeating and varying arc of five specific segments.

    Step 1: What does your character want right now?

    It can be as small as a drink of water, or as big as stopping the guy with his finger on the nuclear button. Each step in a Hank-segment has a goal. And at the end of the segment, that goal will either be reached or not. And more on that in a minute. But if the characters don’t want something, there’s no reason for them to do anything. More on that in a minute, too.

    Step 2: Why does that person want that thing?

    Are they thirsty? Because maybe, if they don’t get water they will die? If they don’t get water they will not be able to take their pill? (And then they’ll die?) Or if they don’t stop the nuclear-button guy, they will die and so will everyone else? Depending on where you are in the story, the stakes can be tiny or cataclysmic, but you the author must clarify the motivation for them to do what they are about to do to get what they want.

    Step 3: They decide what to do!

    Should they call room service? Do they fumble down the stairs in the middle of the night and go to the kitchen and search for a glass and turn on the water? Do they pull out their stun gun or brass knuckles or call on their power of personal persuasion to distract nuclear-button guy?

    Your character must decide what to do, and that decision-making process allows you the author to examine the setting and all of its possibilities, as well as the psychology of the character. Do they make a wise, thoughtful, benevolent decision? Or a selfish, venal, self-centered decision? The decision they make allows you to reveal their character.

    And the setting matters profoundly: What your character would decide in a blizzard or in the midst of a drought, or in their bedroom (or someone else’s), is very different, so how does that alter their thought process?

    Step 4: They do whatever it is!

    And when they do it, what does that mean for your novel? It means action! It means forward motion. It means something is changing, and all of the dominoes and all of the ramifications of this particular decision crash into a new place. Here we go, the reader thinks, let’s see what happens! This could be a critical moment! And your story flies even higher.

    Step 5: The obstacle.

    And then, every time: WHAM. Up pops the obstacle. The conflict. The barrier.

    Oh no, there’s no water! Oh no, they fall down the stairs. Oh no, the bad nuclear-button guy turns around—it’s not who they thought it was, it’s a good guy! Oh no, what is happening now? The power goes out, the bad guy has suddenly-appearing henchpeople, your character trips and falls on their face. The action they chose is thwarted because suddenly now there’s a new conflict—they have been stopped on the way to their goal. What do they need to do now? 

    Which brings us back to number one, see? 

    What does your character want? And you start again.

    Meanwhile, you have written a segment with a goal, with understandable motivation, with revealing decision-making, with propulsive action, and with a twist or a shock or a surprise or an obstacle. Hooray! Your story is moving ahead.

    Goal. Motivation. Decision-making. Action. Obstacle. Then, result and regroup and restart. What do they want now? Is that different from the past? Whether it is or whether it isn’t, either way works. Because your story and your character have evolved and advanced.

    Your key secret is causation: Everything happens because of what happened before. Because of this—then this. Because of that—then that. With causation, your book is no longer randomly episodic—and then and then and then—disparate story pieces glued together as a narrative. With the five steps, the story is logical, relatable, and propulsive, because those five steps reflect a character’s unique and personal decision-making process.

    Is a segment the same as a chapter or a scene?

    They may be each of those, but where you break your scenes or chapters during this series may differ. You may end a chapter when the character hits the obstacle. You may begin the next chapter when they take action. That all depends on the rhythm of your book.

    Does the obstacle have to be bad? Nope. Maybe your character gets what they hoped for, or what they expected. Or maybe they learned something helpful that they didn’t know before. Great. But now—whoa. Their path is different. And what if they were wrong about what they wanted? Now what do they want?

    And remember—all of the other characters in your novel want something too, and whether on the page or off, they’re going through the same five steps. When those wants conflict with your character’s wants—instant conflict.  (And that’s just what the author wants!)

    Finally, what your character wants in the big picture arc—your thematic “want” for happiness or love or peace or success—is the goal of these incremental “wants.” Does the “big want” change as the incremental wants proceed? Of course it does. And that makes your story even better.

    From beginning to end, your novel is a series of these five steps. And I promise you, these steps will be invisible in your manuscript. That’s because the five steps are exactly how life works—and because of that, your story feels powerful and real. And the muddle in the middle turns to magic.

    Check out Hank Phillippi Ryan’s All This Could Be Yours here:

    (WD uses affiliate links)

  • Writing Multiple Storylines, Timelines, and POVs

    Writing Multiple Storylines, Timelines, and POVs

    Multiple storylines and timelines can bring wonderful added depth, dimension, and texture to a story, broadening its scope and making the whole more effective and resonant. They offer authors the chance to explore different perspectives on a story, and to creatively structure how it’s told to heighten reader engagement.

    How do you structure and weave various storylines together? How do you shift between storylines and immediately orient readers without confusing them? How do you invest readers deeply in each one—and keep them invested throughout? What merits a separate storyline—and what’s just backstory?

    In this 90-minute live webinar, career book editor Tiffany Yates Martin will bring her decades of experience to exploring all these questions and more, dissecting the structure and techniques of published novels to demonstrate these principles in action.

    Catch Up On Writer’s Digest Presents Now!

    The “Writer’s Digest Presents” podcast returns this Tuesday, September 16, with a brand-new episode and brand-new look! Catch up on the latest episodes now so you’re not behind!

    Join Writer’s Digest VIP Membership!

    Regardless of where you are on your writer’s journey, Writer’s Digest can help you achieve your goals. Writer’s Digest VIP Membership is a treasure trove of writing resources designed to inspire and empower you at every stage of your journey. It’s the one-stop destination for information, online learning, in-depth resources, and a unique writing community. VIP membership equips you to develop your craft, hone personal skills and publishing acumen, and achieve your goals.

  • Cartoon Caption Contest – Writer’s Digest

    Cartoon Caption Contest – Writer’s Digest

    About Amy Jones

    Amy Jones is the Editor-in-Chief of Writer’s Digest and was the managing content director for WD Books. She is the editor of the Novel and Short Story Writer’s Market and Children’s Writer’s and Illustrator’s Market. Prior to joining the WD team, Amy was the managing editor for North Light Books and IMPACT Books. Like most WD staffers, Amy is a voracious reader and has a particular interest in literary fiction, historical fiction, steamy romance, and page-turning mysteries. When she’s not reading, Amy can be found daydreaming about Italy or volunteering at her local no-kill cat shelter. Find Amy on Twitter @AmyMJones_5.

  • Productivity Hacks to Write Faster Than Ever

    Productivity Hacks to Write Faster Than Ever

    Keeping up your productivity as a writer is no simple task. It’s something I hear my media-training clients talk about a lot. As a productivity expert as well as a writer myself, I have some tips that I’ve collected over the years for writing faster and getting more done. These are tools and tricks I use myself. The key is finding classic techniques that work for you and then sprinkling in some new hacks to keep yourself fresh. 

    Here are my top productivity hacks to write faster than ever: 

    1. Make the most of established techniques.  

    Often, using established productivity strategies is the right place to start when you want to boost your writing pace. One of my favorites is the Pomodoro Technique, which involves short, timed bursts of productivity (often 25 minutes, but you can customize it for your needs and preferences) followed by short, 5-minute breaks. It’s like HIIT for productivity! 

    Another tool that can make a big difference is creating fake deadlines for yourself. Sometimes having that external pressure can allow you to focus your energy. For example, set word-count deadlines—and stick to them! A variation on this is to create specific assignments for yourself, such as writing a particular scene. That specificity serves the same purpose as the fake deadline. It gives you a set amount of writing to do—and the satisfaction that comes with completing it! 

    You can even tie assignments to specific days. That’s what I do: Fridays are my writing days. I give myself a specific assignment ahead of time so I know what I’ll be working on. Planning topics or assignments before your scheduled writing time lets you cut out the dilly-dallying of trying to decide what to write. Instead, you can jump right in and get more done in the time you have. 

    2. Introduce fresh prompts and creative strategies. 

    Sometimes, even with the right tools and techniques, you need a little extra boost to get your creative juices flowing. That’s where prompts come in. There are lots of ways to get and use creative prompts. There are plenty of books and websites including WritersDigest.com that has lists of them to download. 

    For example, you might do a single-card pull to come up with a newsletter topic. A three-card pull can be great for story ideas where you need a beginning, middle, and end. And imagery from cards can be useful for character ideas. 

    3. Take advantage of accountability and support systems. 

    4. Develop a time management approach that actually works.

    Time management can be one of the most difficult things to navigate as a writer. Feeling inspired and having great ideas don’t mean much if you can’t find the time to sit down and write, or if you feel tired or rushed when your writing slot rolls around. Time management isn’t one-size-fits-all.  

    How you manage your writing time and where you fit it into your busy schedule will be different for everyone. But that doesn’t mean it’s all up to you to figure it out on your own. Being intentional about how you schedule and use your writing time is key.  

    For example, back when I was a full-time news producer, I made time for writing after work. It was a priority for me, and I carved out an hour here and there each week to work on my first book, Listful Living. Then, when I became a media trainer and productivity expert, my schedule changed. I could design my workday on my own terms and so my writing time changed too. I decided that Fridays would be my writing days, and I made it a priority not to schedule meetings on Fridays. Those days are reserved for my writing accountability meetings and solo writing time.  

    The key here is being flexible and assessing what your life looks like right now. Maybe you made a plan for your writing time a few years ago and now that doesn’t work anymore because of work or family obligations.  

    For example, if evenings are your writing time, you might find that you’re too tired and you can only get a few words down each night. Try moving your writing time to the morning for a month and see what changes. Or vice-versa! Life has seasons and your time management approach has to shift with them to be most effective.  

    When you have your writing time and space figured out (yep, making sure your environment is supporting you with limited distractions is key), return to some of those structured techniques like deadlines, assignments, and Pomodoro. You might find that switching up your approach every so often helps. Or, you might benefit from keeping things consistent. Every writer is different, and it’s important to be mindful of your own needs and habits as you work on boosting your writing speed.  

  • The Healing Power of Fiction: Turning Pain Into Prose

    The Healing Power of Fiction: Turning Pain Into Prose

    Writers know this instinctively: When life breaks us open, words have a way of spilling out. Some of us scribble in journals, some draft poems in the middle of the night, some start novels that feel too big for us but demand to be written anyway.

    That was me with Gajarah. I wasn’t just writing a book. As a peace negotiator who has borne witness to the darker edges of human capabilities, and a woman of migration myself, I was making sense of the grief that I’ve collected over the years. Grief that sat clunky, and questions about belonging that just wouldn’t stop gnawing.

    Fiction, it turns out, is one of the most powerful ways we can turn pain into something we can actually carry. It doesn’t erase trauma. It doesn’t offer tidy resolutions. But it does transform what feels unspeakable into something that can be shared, read, and understood. That act alone can be profoundly healing. For the writer, and for the reader.

    Stories as Medicine

    Across cultures, stories have always been part of how we heal. In Punjabi households, for centuries grief has found its way into songs we sing, even those sung at weddings. In some Kashmiri folktales, ghosts and fairies speak truths history books conveniently forget. In Indigenous traditions across North America, storytelling circles remain sacred sites of collective healing, where children, elders, and ancestors gather to share generations after generations.

    These stories weren’t just entertainment. They were tools for survival. A way of carrying memory forward when it was too dangerous or too raw to share in its purest form.

    Fiction, in many ways, is a contemporary extension of that tradition.

    The Psychology of Narrative

    Trauma fragments memory. It leaves us with these jagged pieces that don’t seem to fit together. Psychologists talk about “narrative repair”—the process of sequencing those fragments into something coherent, something survivable.

    Fiction offers a similar pathway. When we read about a character’s struggle, our brains engage in exercising our resilience muscles from a safe distance. We recognize pain and can empathize without being consumed by it. We can test out what forgiveness could look like, without having to risk it in our own lives first.

    And when we write fiction, we’re doing a form of narrative therapy without calling it that. We take experiences that feel impossible to name and place them into the hands of characters who can hold them. We move them around, we reimagine them, we give them endings our real lives may not yet allow.

    The Neuroscience of Story

    Science backs all of this up. Neuroscientists have shown that when we read a story, our brains don’t just process the words. They light up as if we are living the experience. A story about running activates the motor cortex. A story about grief activates the same areas that fire does when we grieve.

    This is why fiction can feel so visceral. It’s not just that we “relate” to characters. It’s that our brains are experiencing their journeys almost as if they were our own. Which means fiction has the ability to rehearse healing in us, alongside attempting it in our real lives.

    Fiction as Collective Healing

    Of course, trauma isn’t just personal. It’s also collective. Wars, displacement, systemic violence—these leave behind messes that last for generations. And fiction has a way of carrying those wounds into public view without reducing them to statistics or headlines.

    Think of Toni Morrison’s Beloved, which turned the legacy of slavery into a story that was both devastating and necessary. Or Leslie Marmon Silko’s Ceremony, which wove Indigenous tradition into a narrative of recovery from war and colonization.

    When I wrote Gajarah, I wanted to add my color to this fabric: to tell a story about women carrying inherited and collected grief and resilience, and to invite readers to sit with it—not just as bystanders, but as participants in what it means to live with memory. As those who could walk alongside someone healing from trauma. Imagine building our capacity to not just be able to heal from our own grief, but that of others? What does it look like in someone’s head when they’re wrestling with it? By walking alongside the protagonist, Gajarah gives us a powerful look inside a traumatized brain.

    Accessibility and Everyday Healing

    Not everyone has access to therapy. But most people have access to stories. Books live in classrooms, libraries, and living rooms. They’re shared in book clubs, on nightstands, in the quiet scroll of an e-reader before bed. Most importantly, they’re shared amongst friends around a campfire, in a kitchen, while walking down the street, in everyday conversations.

    This accessibility is what makes fiction so powerful. It can soften the entry into taboo or stigmatized subjects. It can open up conversations around grief, violence, or identity in ways that lectures or reports never could. And it does so gently. With metaphor, with poetry, with character, giving readers a way to engage without having to disclose their own wounds.

    Writing as Release

    For writers, fiction can be how we metabolize our own pain. Writing doesn’t have to be about fixing pain, but about processing it, creating new language to make sense of it, creating new possibilities of what else could be true beyond the binary. And doing so in a way that helps others watch how it all unfolds.

    Readers, in turn, transform that release into something else—recognition, relief, or even courage. Fiction becomes a shared space of repair, a sacred circle where the storyteller and story listener cultivate their field of healing together.

    The Power of Prose

    Turning pain into prose doesn’t make the pain disappear. But it makes it speakable. It gives it rhythm, context, and meaning. And sometimes, that’s enough to shift despair into possibility.

    Fiction allows us to mould the clunk, work with it, shape it into something that can be carried.

    So, if you’re a writer staring down your own silences, or a reader looking for language that might mirror your wounds, trust the story. It won’t heal everything. But it might just be the bridge that carries you closer to wholeness.

    Check out Somia Sadiq’s Gajarah here:

    (WD uses affiliate links)

  • 3 Lessons I Learned After My Publisher Went Out of Business

    3 Lessons I Learned After My Publisher Went Out of Business

    It’s no secret that breaking into traditional publishing is hard, but I didn’t realize just what a roller coaster of a business it is until my publisher abruptly shut down.

    My turbulent experience began with the high of a two-book deal in May 2022 when Agora Books acquired my Domingo the Bounty Hunter series. It was the culmination of more than two decades of writing fiction without literary representation.

    My first two published novels, acquired by two different small presses, brought me a hard-earned “yes” in an industry full of “no.” They helped me gain a foothold in traditional publishing but not much else. I didn’t receive book advance or marketing support for either book.

    Agora Books as a Bridge

    Publication, however, motivated me to persist, which led to my signing with a literary agent— Maria Napolitano of KT Literary—which led to my two-book deal with Agora Books. Publishing with an imprint known for its inclusive vision felt special.

    In 2013, publishing veteran Jason Pinter founded Polis Books, which specialized in crime fiction. Chantelle Aimée Osman, another publishing veteran, pitched him the idea of Agora Books, which was launched in 2019 as an imprint of Polis Books. Pinter and Osman, who ran Agora Books as editor, did what other publishers often say they want to do but never quite do—to publish diverse authors and new voices.

    Explaining Agora Books’s mission at a Crime Writers of Color webinar in May 2024, Osman said, “I was tired of seeing the same viewpoint expressed over and over. There are so many viewpoints and stories out there that need to be in the mainstream as well.”

    Agora Books was the bridge that took writers of color like me inside the arguably exclusivist and elitist traditional publishing industry. This is not to say that my publishing journey became easier.

    Bumpy Publishing Journey

    By the time Multo, book one of my series, was published in September 2023, I had weathered a critical disruption. Osman, who acquired my series, left Agora Books for another publishing house, which meant I changed editors in midstream. Such job changes are common in an industry always in a state of flux.

    I rode out the stresses of the editing process and unexpected developments by focusing on what was ahead of me—marketing and promotion of Multo. I was fully aware that I had to do the heavy lifting.

    Agora Books, like most independent presses, didn’t have a PR person, so I hired my own publicist. Even before Multo was launched, I spoke at writing conferences and book events. After it was published, I wrote articles for media outlets and gave interviews to podcasters and book bloggers. Before the end of 2023, my agent submitted book two of my series with an eye on publication in 2024.

    For the next few months after publication, I was immersed in book promotion while waiting for my publisher to decide when book two would be published. The decision never came. In March 2024—six months after Multo was published—Polis Books and Agora Books went out of business. In hindsight, there were telltale signs of problems at Agora Books, but I chose not to dwell on them.

    In a complete reversal of fortune, Osman, who was then an editor at Amazon Publishing, acquired my series for Thomas & Mercer three months after Agora Books closed. Looking at my experience in the rearview mirror, I can say honestly that it has taught me valuable lessons that made me a stronger person.

    3 Lessons Learned From This Experience

    #1 It pays to have a good literary agent.

    Aspiring writers often ask me if it’s worth the time, effort, and heartache to find an agent. If you want a career in traditional publishing, the answer is an unequivocal yes.

    I felt defeated when Agora Books closed. I don’t know how I would have survived such a loss without my agent. While I wallowed in a slurry of grief and self-pity, a publishing pro like Napolitano simply got to work, which leads us to the second lesson below.

    #2 It pays to have a good book contract that covers the vicissitudes of publishing.

    Before Napolitano represented me, my only concern was to get published. I didn’t negotiate with my previous publishers because I didn’t know how. Indeed, bare-bones publication was all I got in my initial foray into traditional publishing.

    Having Napolitano in my corner meant a better contract from the get-go and receiving a book advance for the first time. When Agora Books shuttered, my agent was already in a good place to pick up the pieces. Napolitano and her team at KT Literary helped me revert my rights to the series.

    Pinter worked hard to find new publishers for his authors, rehoming most of his company’s title backlist. My agent and I were among the few who struck out on our own, landing at Thomas & Mercer, thanks to Osman. Today Pinter and Osman work at Simon Maverick as VP/editorial director and senior editor, respectively.

    #3 It pays to have more than one manuscript at the ready.

    Apart from the incredibly good luck of having Osman as my editor, it helped that book two of my series was ready for submission. Thomas & Mercer had a new title to bank on in addition to re-issuing book one. My new publisher re-edited book one, now called Danger No Problem, and decided to publish it simultaneously with book two, Sunday or the Highway.

    I went from basement low when Agora Books shuttered to a dizzying high when Thomas & Mercer saved my series. Sailing into the sunset rarely happens in publishing, but at least I’m now moving like a ship in full sail, brimming with purpose and hope.

    Check out Cindy Fazzi’s Danger No Problem here:

    (WD uses affiliate links)

    And after finishing that, check out Sunday or the Highway here:

  • Voice of the Past – Writer’s Digest

    Voice of the Past – Writer’s Digest

    Since obtaining her MFA in fiction, Moriah Richard has worked with over 100 authors to help them achieve their publication dreams. As the managing editor of Writer’s Digest magazine, she spearheads the world-building column Building Better Worlds, a 2023 Eddie & Ozzie Award winner. She also runs the Flash Fiction February Challenge on the WD blog, encouraging writers to pen one microstory a day over the course of the month and share their work with other participants. As a reader, Moriah is most interested in horror, fantasy, and romance, although she will read just about anything with a great hook.

    Learn more about Moriah’s editorial services and writing classes on her personal website.

  • Themes of Objectivity versus Subjectivity (From Script)

    Themes of Objectivity versus Subjectivity (From Script)

    In this week’s round up brought to us by Script magazine, Twinless filmmaker James Sweeney discusses the importance of theme and point of view. Plus, catch up on our interview with The Cut filmmaker Sean Ellis, our review on the final chapter of Downton Abbey, and more.

    Filmmaker Is Much More than Her Disability

    Actress and writer Bella Zoe Martinez discusses how she has put her creative talents to use to flip the script on Autistic characters, and those working behind the scenes.

    UNDERSTANDING SCREENWRITING: Bigs and Mediums and Littles

    The big films are Superman, Jurassic World: Rebirth, the medium one is The Naked Gun, and the little one is Jane Austen Wrecked My Life.

    Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale Review

    It doesn’t feel like the end but rather the closing of a chapter. Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale gently and affirmatively shows the familial bond between the Crawleys and staff.

    Camera as Storyteller: Sean Ellis Discusses The Cut

    Filmmaker Sean Ellis discusses how his background in photography and martial arts influences his work, the visual tone of the film, and more.

    Themes of Objectivity versus Subjectivity with Twinless Filmmaker James Sweeney

    James Sweeney discusses the importance of tone and structure, maintaining the narrative’s emotional impact and thematic consistency, the power of POV, and so much more.

  • What Truly Separates a Hero From a Villain?

    What Truly Separates a Hero From a Villain?

    When I first began writing in the world of Sherlock Holmes, I had the joy of unearthing my childhood collection and re-reading it front to back. As I arrived at “The Final Problem,” the story of Holmes’ fateful battle against the villainous Professor Moriarty, I came across a brief verbal interplay that I had never quite registered before.

    It began with a threat, delivered from a parlor chair in 221b Baker Street, where the aggrieved criminal mastermind stated to Holmes: ‘If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you.’

    To which Holmes, with his dry, easy charm, replies: ‘If I were assured of the former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter.’

    It’s a fleeting little extract, in a conversation full of quotable moments, but there was something about it that stuck with me. These two characters are, unknowingly, referencing their final confrontation at the summit of the Reichenbach Falls, that fateful arena where they will both face “destruction” at each other’s hands.

    Yet, despite discussing the same event, it’s clear they viewed it completely differently. A villain and a hero, discussing the exact same moment through two different lenses.

    In the modern age, the line between hero and villain has grown increasingly blurred. Anti-heroes, anti-villains, evil protagonists, and justified antagonists have turned the traditional moral framework of fiction into a rich, and sometimes confusing, tapestry.

    And yet, even if it is more a suggestion than a rule, all these descriptions require a line to be drawn somewhere, and the question of what separates a hero from a villain, sits at the heart of the stories we tell. In that short dialogue, between these two iconic adversaries, I encountered the essence of what separates Holmes from Moriarty, and as my writing faced me with the question of what makes James Moriarty the villain he is, I found, in that interchange, all the answers I needed.

    Heroes Die for Their Beliefs, Villains Kill for Them

    The first major difference between heroes and villains is their capacity for self-sacrifice.

    In the show Game of Thrones, it’s said of Lord Petyr Baelish that “he would see this country burn if he could be king of the ashes.” As that quote alone illustrates, Lord Baelish has no ideals that he would consider dying for. Villains can have their ideas, their schemes, but at a fundamental level they sit at the center of those plans.

    Moriarty, despite all his intellect, can’t fathom, that someone would hold their ideals above their personal survival, whereas Holmes will “cheerfully accept” his own death in pursuit of a higher goal.

    In the battle of wits between Holmes and Moriarty, which so often plays to a stalemate, it’s perhaps the greatest edge that Holmes, and heroes like him, has. Moriarty needs to win, but Holmes, representing something greater than himself, can settle for both of them losing.

    Heroes Don’t Act for Themselves

    In that parlor room, when Moriarty threatens destruction upon Sherlock Holmes, he again makes a crucial miscalculation. It becomes clear in that moment, that Moriarty is fighting for himself, and assumes Holmes to be similarly self-interested. When Holmes responds that he would accept his fate “in the interest of the public,” the gulf between them only grows wider.

    Across literature, the calling card of the villain is a certain breed of selfishness. Not greed, per se, but a philosophy built around fulfilling their own desires; revenge instead of justice, control instead of order. If anything, it’s the journey of a hero, to set off in the pursuit of what they want, to ultimately discover what they truly needed; often something less self-involved, something which benefits those around them. It’s the tragedy of the villain that they never learn this lesson.

    Heroes Do What Must Be Done; Villains Do What They Want

    Moriarty’s threat constitutes a needless escalation and act of vengeance. By contrast, Sherlock merely accepts it as a consequence, resolving that he’ll do what is necessary.

    It’s often a misconception that heroes are proactive. In most stories, the world is peaceful in its natural state, and a hero finds no reason to change it. Frodo frolics in the Shire, Luke Skywalker works on his farm, even Sherlock Holmes, more proactive than many heroes, smokes his pipe in Baker Street, waiting for a criminal to send a mystery his way. In fact, for all these examples, it takes a pro-active villain to threaten their world and bring them into action. Even then, a good hero never seeks to stay in the story for longer than necessary.

    A shining example of this is Breaking Bad. Walter White, forced to cook meth to provide for his family, is positioned as a hero by every rule in this list. Yet, when he’s offered a way out, and a family friend offers all the money he could need, Walter spurns it. In doing so, he prolongs his story unnecessarily and takes his first step into villainy.

    The question of what makes a villain is broad, with as many exceptions as rules. But with Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gives us an outline, typified by how they see their final reckoning. Holmes steps to that precipice accompanied by his ideals, acting for others and only as needed to end a great threat. Moriarty holds nothing higher than himself, fights for no one, and arrives only for a frivolous act of revenge.

    And while, in “The Final Problem,” they both fall to their deaths; it’s Sherlock’s higher calling, his altruism, and his clarity of purpose that declares him the winner. Moriarty, a true villain, sees nothing outside himself, and so, in his meeting with the falls, loses everything he holds dear.

    Check out Jack Anderson’s The Return of Moriarty here:

    (WD uses affiliate links)