Today author Heather Lin joins me to talk about writing and editing Westridge, her new romance novel. Read to the end for an insightful excerpt comparing the original opening of chapter one against the edited intro. What a difference small changes can make!
Before we jump into our interview, though, meet Gabby and Jason, the stars of the book:
Gabby Jones and Jason Dawson were born only months apart in the small town of Westridge. For the next eighteen years, they were inseparable, but after their high school graduation, Gabby got on a bus to the city, leaving Jason with a weak explanation and a broken heart. After five years of making it a point to avoid her old flame, Gabby comes home for a funeral and, thanks to meddling parents and circumstance, she and Jason are thrown together again.
But now Jason is an auto mechanic with an ex-wife and a daughter, and Gabby owns a successful flower shop in the city. Even if Gabby is able to admit she still loves Jason, and even if Jason is able to convince her to tell him the real reason she left, will they be able to get past the changes and broken pieces in time to start over?
Please note that Heather Lin is a blog guest and not a Romance Refined client.
Rachel: Thanks so much for stopping by, Heather. Let’s start by talking about your writing process. Are you a plotter or a pantser?
Heather: I am a proud pantser. The one time I tried to work with a detailed outline, the story came out just awful. I get an idea, I write down the bare bones, and then I get to work.
Rachel: That’s what I love about interviewing authors: for all the advice out there, I think writers need to be reminded that there is no right or wrong way to write a book. Study, ask questions, try new methods, but ultimately each author must do what works for them.
Do you have a critique partner or beta reader that you consult before submitting to agents or editors?
Before we jump into our interview, though, meet Gabby and Jason, the stars of the book:
Gabby Jones and Jason Dawson were born only months apart in the small town of Westridge. For the next eighteen years, they were inseparable, but after their high school graduation, Gabby got on a bus to the city, leaving Jason with a weak explanation and a broken heart. After five years of making it a point to avoid her old flame, Gabby comes home for a funeral and, thanks to meddling parents and circumstance, she and Jason are thrown together again.
But now Jason is an auto mechanic with an ex-wife and a daughter, and Gabby owns a successful flower shop in the city. Even if Gabby is able to admit she still loves Jason, and even if Jason is able to convince her to tell him the real reason she left, will they be able to get past the changes and broken pieces in time to start over?
Please note that Heather Lin is a blog guest and not a Romance Refined client.
Rachel: Thanks so much for stopping by, Heather. Let’s start by talking about your writing process. Are you a plotter or a pantser?
Heather: I am a proud pantser. The one time I tried to work with a detailed outline, the story came out just awful. I get an idea, I write down the bare bones, and then I get to work.
Rachel: That’s what I love about interviewing authors: for all the advice out there, I think writers need to be reminded that there is no right or wrong way to write a book. Study, ask questions, try new methods, but ultimately each author must do what works for them.
Do you have a critique partner or beta reader that you consult before submitting to agents or editors?
Heather: It sounds so cliché, but my best beta reader is my mom. Not because she’ll tell me I did a wonderful job but because she will tear my manuscript apart. Seriously. One time I sang a song for her in my bedroom (I was nine or ten, I think) and she said, “That was very nice, dear, but a bit nasally.” If I still feel there's room for improvement after she’s gone through my manuscript, I'll enlist the help of my romance reading friends. I'm just always careful to pick betas that will not sugarcoat a single thing.
Rachel: Honest betas are essential!
How long did it take you to write your first draft? How long to revise your early draft(s) before you let beta readers or an editor read Westridge?
Heather: Westridge was a quick story for me. I think it took about three months. It was written at a very emotional time, just after the death of my aunt and the closing of her luncheonette, during the last summer I spent in my childhood home before packing up and moving in with my then-fiancé.
My drafting process is to write the story, do an immediate edit, let it sit for about two weeks, and then do a final edit before handing it over to Mom.
Rachel: That period of “putting it in a drawer” and letting it rest for a while is so essential, something that many writers are too anxious to do before sharing or submitting their work. Returning to it with a fresh eye can work miracles for pinpointing weak areas.
How tightly do you hold onto your original plot and character ideas, even if you feel they aren’t coming together?
Heather: Not as tightly as I used to! I can usually tell about a chapter in if the story is going to work. I wrote 35,000 words on one story (the dreadful one I attempted to outline) and there was just so much wrong with it. The characters weren't well-developed, the starting point was wrong, the plot became unbelievable...I was able to take the bare bones and write a new story out of it a few years later, but now I know that if a story isn't working, I shouldn't waste any more time on it until I have a clearer direction. Something will either come of it or it won't.
Rachel: Good advice.
I know you’ve been both traditionally published and self-published. Can you talk about your pros and cons of editing through both outlets?
Heather: Westridge was first published through Silver Publishing in 2011, and it was a wonderful experience. I got to work with a cover artist and a fabulous editor who made great suggestions while still allowing me to keep my voice. I published a second novel with them, and I had a different editor who wasn’t so great. He didn't seem to understand certain word choices or, worse, want to understand. There were a few good suggestions, but I just had to ask for a second opinion on a lot of things.
That is definitely a perk of publishing traditionally. You have a line editor, a copy editor, the editor-in-chief...There are so many people who see your work before it's published, you know it's going to be as close to perfect as possible.
The re-release of Westridge is my second self-publishing venture, and self-publishing comes with its own challenges. You have to believe in yourself, and you have to invest in yourself. You have to research the industry, pick/create/design a great cover, choose the best editor, etc. Are you going to get a line editor and a proofreader? Just one? Two of each? Just wing it? What about promotion?
These are all things to consider.
However, I already love self-publishing. I don't have to wait for a rejection or an acceptance. I can just write, publish, and then write some more.
Rachel: You nailed self-publishing on the head when you said, “you have to invest in yourself.” Self-publishing is essentially setting up a complete publishing house, with one client, and just like with any business, it takes a financial investment to get off the ground.
Did Westridge face any rejections before it was contracted for publication? If so, did you make any significant changes to it after the rejections?
Heather: I submitted Westridge to some agents and big-name publishers, but they all said it was too short to be worth their while. I actually got a positive response from Jessica Faust at Book Ends, LLC (squee!!) but, again, it was too short for her. I submitted to Samhain, and then I submitted to Silver. I didn't make any huge changes to the manuscript. It was just a matter of finding the right fit.
Rachel: Do you have any other manuscripts that have been rejected, and if so, do you find that as time passes you gain insight as to why they haven't been contracted? Or are you still baffled? Do you plan to rework them, or have you chalked them up to practice?
Heather: Even though I am planning to self-publish my longer works from now on, there is one story I probably won't publish until/unless I rewrite the entire thing from scratch. I wrote it in a month or two because the ideas flowed so quickly, and I loved the end result. I submitted it to several agents and publishers and no one was interested. I put it on the back burner for a while, and then I completely revamped it. I took it from 80,000 words to 60,000 words and polished it as much as I possibly could. I think I sent it to 40 agents and no one was interested. Obviously, there is something very wrong with this novel and I just can't see what it is. I may rewrite it someday, but for now I'm moving on to other projects.
Rachel: What was your favorite change to Westridge that came about during the editing process?
Heather: My mother suggested the flashback scenes, and I really think it helped flesh out the story. There was also a major edit my editor at Silver suggested, which was to switch around some paragraphs in the very beginning of the story to help grab readers more effectively.
Check out the differences between the two versions in the excerpt below:
Intro: Final Version
“What do you mean you can't pick me up?” Gabby Jones asked in disbelief, trying to balance her purse, suitcase, ticket, and cell phone as she boarded the bus.
“I'll send someone to get you. I'm busy helping with the funeral arrangements,” her mother replied.
“What about Dad?”
“He's busy, too. We'll send someone.”
“Mom,” she said unhappily. “I know who you're gonna send. You can't.”
“Oh, you're gonna have to see him at the funeral, anyway. And just because you disowned all of your friends when you moved away doesn't mean I have to.”
Gabby had left the small town of Westridge five years ago. In Westridge, the nearest mall was forty-five minutes away, and “got stuck behind a plow” was the most common excuse for tardiness. The kids hung out at Walmart or the diner during their downtime and talked about how they couldn't wait to get away from the stupid small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. They didn't want to be stuck in the same routine, seeing the same people their whole lives, and Gabby had felt the same way—trapped, bored, insignificant. At least, that's what she'd told Jason two days before getting on a bus to the city and not looking back.
Ever since, she'd made a point of avoiding her old friends whenever she returned to visit her parents. Of course, her mother always updated her on Jason whether Gabby wanted to hear it or not. Mrs. Jones had complained about the girl Jason dated after Gabby, discounted their quick marriage, gushed over their new baby, and gloated when they got divorced just a year after her birth. It had hurt Gabby to hear the news, but there was no way she'd ever admit it to her mother. Gabby tolerated her mother's gossip and was grateful she'd managed to avoid her high school sweetheart in person, if not in conversation. But this visit would be different.
Her parents and Jason's had been best friends since high school, and none of them made a secret of wishing Gabby and Jason would get back together. Sending him to pick her up today was the perfect setup. For them. Gabby rolled her hazel eyes, even though her mother couldn't see.
“I didn't disown anyone,” she said. “I just went on to bigger and better things. People drift apart. It happens.”
She found her seat and threw her bags onto the rack above. Her neighbors didn't look particularly happy about the twenty-three year old talking away on her cell phone, but she ignored them.
“Bullshit,” Mrs. Jones admonished. Only her mother could make cussing sound like a gentle, motherly act. “You loved it here. You were perfectly happy until—”
“Mom!” Gabby interrupted, not wanting to hear what her mother would say next.
She'd become a master of denial over the years and couldn't handle anyone breaking through the fog of her self-induced memory loss. Her mother sighed. It was a heavy sound, and Gabby didn't like it. It made her seem old.
“You're right. It's fine,” Gabby's voice softened. “I'll have to see him soon, anyway.”
“It'll be okay, baby. I love you. I have to go now.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
She snapped the phone shut and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes to fend off a tension headache. But all she could see was an eighteen-year-old Jason—blue eyes full of disbelief, face pale, fists balled.
* * * *
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Jason demanded, slamming the door to his truck shut.
“I'm leaving.”
Gabby had to work hard to keep her chin raised and her lips from trembling.
“Just like that? And all I get is a note in my locker on the last day of school?”
He threw a crumpled piece of paper at her feet. Her parents had dropped her off at the bus stop, but they were long gone. If that goodbye had been painful, this one would be excruciating—which was exactly why she'd tried to avoid it.
“I told you in the note—”
“And now you can tell me to my face.”
He was making a scene. Gabby was embarrassed, and the tears she'd tried desperately to keep at bay burned her eyes.
“There isn't anything to do in this town. I just need to see what else is out there.”
“This is bullshit, Gabby. A few months ago, we were talking about getting married.”
Her voice rose as she lied desperately through her teeth, trying to keep control.
“Well, I changed my mind.”
The bus pulled up, and Jason's anger turned to pleading.
“Don't, Gabby. If you need some time away from this place, I'll go with you.”
“You belong here, Jason.”
“I belong with you.”
“Not anymore.”
Then she turned and boarded the bus, ignoring the stares. She managed to hold the tears back until he was out of sight.
* * * *
The pain of the memory was scorching, surprising Gabby with its intensity. She opened her eyes. She had to get a hold of herself. She looked past the old man reading a magazine, her gaze falling on the houses outside. They were in the suburbs, but her destination lay far beyond that. Gabby groaned and firmly pushed the last image she had of her high school sweetheart out of her mind. The next few days were going to be hell.
Intro: Original Version
Gabby had left the small town of Westridge five years ago. In Westridge, the nearest mall was forty-five minutes away, and “got stuck behind a plow” was the most common excuse for tardiness. The kids hung out at Walmart or the diner during their downtime and talked about how they couldn't wait to get away from the stupid small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. They didn't want to be stuck in the same routine, seeing the same people their whole lives, and Gabby had felt the same way—trapped, bored, insignificant. At least, that's what she'd told Jason two days before getting on a bus to the city and not looking back.
Ever since, she'd made a point of avoiding her old friends whenever she returned to visit her parents. Of course, her mother always updated her on Jason whether Gabby wanted to hear it or not. Mrs. Jones had complained about the girl Jason dated after Gabby, discounted their quick marriage, gushed over their new baby, and gloated when they got divorced just a year after her birth. It had hurt Gabby to hear the news, but there was no way she'd ever admit it to her mother. Gabby tolerated her mother's gossip and was grateful she'd managed to avoid her high school sweetheart in person, if not in conversation. But this visit would be different.
“What do you mean you can't pick me up?” Gabby Jones asked in disbelief, trying to balance her purse, suitcase, ticket, and cell phone as she boarded the bus.
“I'll send someone to get you. I'm busy helping with the funeral arrangements,” her mother replied.
“What about Dad?”
“He's busy, too. We'll send someone.”
“Mom,” she said unhappily. “I know who you're gonna send. You can't.”
“Oh, you're gonna have to see him at the funeral, anyway. And just because you disowned all of your friends when you moved away doesn't mean I have to.”
Her parents and Jason's had been best friends since high school, and none of them made a secret of wishing Gabby and Jason would get back together. Sending him to pick her up today was the perfect setup. For them. Gabby rolled her hazel eyes, even though her mother couldn't see.
“I didn't disown anyone,” she said. “I just went on to bigger and better things. People drift apart. It happens.”
She found her seat and threw her bags onto the rack above. Her neighbors didn't look particularly happy about the twenty-three year old talking away on her cell phone, but she ignored them.
“Bullshit,” Mrs. Jones admonished. Only her mother could make cussing sound like a gentle, motherly act. “You loved it here. You were perfectly happy until—”
“Mom!” Gabby interrupted, not wanting to hear what her mother would say next.
She'd become a master of denial over the years and couldn't handle anyone breaking through the fog of her self-induced memory loss. Her mother sighed. It was a heavy sound, and Gabby didn't like it. It made her seem old.
“You're right. It's fine,” Gabby's voice softened. “I'll have to see him soon, anyway.”
“It'll be okay, baby. I love you. I have to go now.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
She snapped the phone shut and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes to fend off a tension headache. But all she could see was an eighteen-year-old Jason—blue eyes full of disbelief, face pale, fists balled.
The pain of the memory was scorching, surprising Gabby with its intensity. She opened her eyes. She had to get a hold of herself. She looked past the old man reading a magazine, her gaze falling on the houses outside. They were in the suburbs, but her destination lay far beyond that. Gabby groaned and firmly pushed the last image she had of her high school sweetheart out of her mind. The next few days were going to be hell.
Rachel: It’s amazing what a difference slight rearrangement can make! In the final version the reader is immediately drawn into the active scene, and two key elements hooks the reader by paragraph five: mention of a funeral and a conflict between past lovers.
Thanks for sharing your insights with us, Heather.
Author Bio
Heather lives in Delaware with her husband, cat, and yellow lab. She began writing romance and erotica in 2008 and hasn't been able to keep her mind off love since. Like Heather Lin on Facebook, follow @heatherlin88 on Twitter, and visit http://www.heatherlin.com to stay updated on new releases—including Rosa’s Story, the sequel to Westridge.
You can buy Westridge at Amazon US and Smashwords.
Heather lives in Delaware with her husband, cat, and yellow lab. She began writing romance and erotica in 2008 and hasn't been able to keep her mind off love since. Like Heather Lin on Facebook, follow @heatherlin88 on Twitter, and visit http://www.heatherlin.com to stay updated on new releases—including Rosa’s Story, the sequel to Westridge.
You can buy Westridge at Amazon US and Smashwords.
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