Author Interview: Ross Goldstein, a 2011 success story

December 21st, 2011

In one of my clients’ biggest success stories of 2011, Mill Valley writer Ross Goldstein landed a film deal for his first novel, Chain Reaction, with Paloma Productions. I learned the news last month, and am delighted to share this interview with all you writers out there who are asking yourself if a well-written novel can truly find success if you self-publish it. Ross’s story is living proof.

When I read the manuscript in 2010, I expected him to find an agent right away. The agents he queried told him that nobody in publishing wanted sports stories. (Funny thing is, I keep seeing The Art of Fielding, a baseball novel, on this year’s bestseller lists. Baseball is a sport, right?) Furthermore, they were sure as heck nobody wanted to publish a cycling story, what with the seemingly endless cloud that hangs over the sport.

His novel is about proving people wrong. And in a wonderfully meta tale of publishing and self-belief, Ross is living out the same kind of story as his protagonist.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Click to see book on Amazon

Tell us about Chain Reaction. What’s the hook, even for readers who may not be cyclists?

Chain Reaction started as a cycling story. As I wrote it evolved to encompass themes and issues that extended beyond the world of cycling. The hook, I believe, is the story of one young man’s efforts to come to grips with his dreams, his history, his decisions, and his acceptance of himself.

Chain Reaction is your first novel. You have an innate sense of story–the novel is full of heart and heroism. What helped you develop your sense of what makes a good story (or a good hero, for that matter)?

The two elements for me are character and narrative. I started by creating real and textured characters. Authenticity was important to me. I wanted them to be icons, but not clichés. Once the characters were developed, there were a few set pieces for the narrative that I had in my mind…the general flow of the story. But the truth is that at some point, fairly early after I came to know the characters, the characters themselves actually guided a lot of the story. I once heard Calum McCann speak about the willingness to “lose oneself” in the process of writing a story. I definitely experienced this. There were times when the characters did or said things that came as a surprise to me. The characters took control of the narrative.

When I read the novel, I was interested in Cal’s two sources of motivation: He loves Daniella and wants to impress her; and he wants to put Rocco in his place. One is positive, and one is negative. Which kind of motivation do you believe makes a competitor (either in cycling or writing) dig the deepest to succeed?

There is a sweet satisfaction to crushing a rival, no doubt. But, the satisfaction of beating someone is insignificant to the satisfaction of achieving a personal goal or aspiration. The former may taste delicious at the time, but the latter is much more nutritious. Anger and revenge cause you to burn too hot…the passion to defeat someone else can be intense but destructive. After all, even if you beat someone but don’t perform to your best level, what have you really accomplished?

You were a competitive cyclist, and still love the sport. Do you think a writer has to experience something firsthand in order to write well about it?

To write about it, no. To write well about it, yes. When my cycling friends, old racing buddies, told me that I had captured the essence, the feel, the authenticity of the race…the camaraderie of the peloton for example, that was some of the best feedback I got. Now, Chain Reaction isn’t only about cycling. When non-cyclists told me that they appreciated the love story or the father-son conflict, that was also gratifying.

What advice would you offer other writers who know they have a good manuscript in their hands, but can’t seem to attract the right people’s attention in the publishing industry?

I wish I had an easy answer to that one. Don’t give up is the first thing that comes to mind. I queried over a hundred agents before I got a bite. And that only came because a friend of a friend gave it to her. She liked it. Up to that point, getting a reading was virtually impossible. Agents are overwhelmed and use shorthand logic to expedite things. Chain Reaction? All of the agents told me that they weren’t interested in a “cycling story.” That was hard to take because I knew there was so much more to it.

A second piece of advice is to gird yourself for the rejection that is going to come. You can’t take it personally, as absurd as that sounds. After all, your work is a representation of who you are. That said, understand that the process has a rhyme and reason of its own. It is designed to cut things out, not include things. There are times when you will question yourself. That comes with the territory. Maybe that is a good thing. If you don’t test yourself, then you haven’t really earned the right to ask others to read what you write.

What are you working on next?

Funny question. That’s what my agent keeps asking. She makes the point that the people she is selling me to are “more interested in the ‘jockey’ than the ‘horse.’” That is, they want to connect with an author, not just buy a property.

Following the blueprint of Chain Reaction, I am doing a lot of thinking right now that will go into the construction of a character that is interesting enough for me to spend the next year, at least, with. Maybe I’ll write something about a sixty-something guy who writes a novel and manages to sell it to the movie industry.

Is there any question you hoped I would ask? 

Just this one, what was the contribution or role of the editor in the process? My answer is that the editor helped me with everything from concept to execution, but the most important thing that she demanded of me was character development. It wasn’t just the mechanics of writing, or even the process of story telling, it was the insistence and guidance in providing a gritty reality to my characters and the encouragement to give even the second level characters a story of their own.

Thanks, Ross! Be sure to check out Ross’s website at http://chainreactionnovel.com/ for more about the book and news of its progress toward the big screen.

Craft Question: Backstory and Flashbacks in Novels

December 1st, 2011

I’m reading Jeffrey Eugenides’s Middlesex. If you know it, you can guess why I am thinking about backstory and flashbacks. If you have not, it is a novel about a Greek hermaphrodite coming of age in industrial Detroit. Its plotting is an eccentric web of history and characters, and evokes shades of John Irving.

Most of all, the first half of its 500-plus pages is family history, and I want to know how this hippopotamus of a tome manages to dance so lightly, so entertainingly, across fifty years of history and two continents with barely a nod to its hermaphroditic narrator.

The first-person narrator adds cohesiveness, yes. The lustful lead-up to an intermarriage between brother and sister is relevant, too, yes. Yet the tantalizing hints of the original hook—the mini-scenes in present-day Berlin, the narrator’s scant mention of his memories—are enough to lure us ahead but not leave us frustrated.

The struggle to insert backstory (and especially flashbacks) is an immense part of a writer’s task. It means you have to interrupt the escalation of tension in a story, and shift back to something that already happened; you have to stop the story clock. You have to reassure the reader that history is more important, for a moment, than the story at hand; you have to convince her that the story at hand will be somehow incomplete and unsatisfying on its own, and urgently needs the voice of history to fill its empty spaces.

And usually, the attempt fails.

Are you a writer? Do you have a talent for moving your narrator through time? What do you pay attention to when plotting these scenes, and how do you know that the shift works?

Caffeinated spiders weave tangled webs. Maybe backstory would be a non-issue if I quit coffee.

 

Holiday gratitude giveaway: Win a literary book bundle!

November 24th, 2011

Dear friends, clients, fellow writers, and readers:

In honor of this year’s holiday season, I’d like to say thank you for what you add to my life and editing business, The Threepenny Editor. I count myself lucky beyond reason for the chance to work every day with people who are as committed to books, writing, learning, and ideas as you all are.

As a gesture of my appreciation, I am giving away one set of my favorite six books on writing:

What do you need to do? Just share in the comments section your answer:

What are the writing accomplishments you’re thankful for this year, and your goals for next year?

The contest is running on this blog and my business blog, and at midnight on December 15, I’ll combine all the comments from both, and use a random number selection to pick the winner. Good luck!

An open question about speculative fiction.

November 16th, 2011

Click for a link to a high-res version of Ward Shelley's brilliant "The History of Science Fiction." I love this image so much that I hung it over my desk.

In an earlier post, I ventured a functional definition of speculative fiction. I said that a manuscript is “speculative” (i.e., fantasy, sci-fi, or anything in between) if it requires the writer to invent a rule or condition for their world that acts as a metaphor for the novel’s theme. In other words: If you make something up, that something has to offer the reader a clue to what the book is about. Otherwise it’s gratuitous.

Yet as I plan my next novel, I am reminded of Occam’s Razor, which says that the simplest explanation for anything is usually the truest one. The problem with my earlier definition is that it doesn’t always work; there are lots of books about dragons, fairies, and/or outer space that use speculative elements just for the fun of it. Some readers like to read about dragons, for instance, so a market exists for writers who enjoy telling dragon stories. Simple as that. There is no rule that says all dragon stories must be important social commentary.

So let me try a simpler definition. Where all fiction involves five basic elements–premise, theme, voice, character, plot, and style–speculative fiction also involves a sort of sidecar to premise: the concept.

So, if premise is what the story is about in a few simple sentences, the concept is the invented-but-believable element that separates the story world from reality. The concept could be anything: vampires and why they exist (Interview with a Vampire), a medieval world inhabited by dragons (The Dragonbone Chair), a future America in which fertile women are required to reproduce (The Handmaid’s Tale), or an alter-reality in which Irish immigrant spirits are at war with Native American spirits (Forests of the Heart). If your novel uses a concept, then it has a speculative element. Simple as that.

So, here’s my question. What is the difference between realist fiction and speculative fiction?

And a bonus question: Where is the line that separates books shelved in a store’s “general fiction” section and its “sci-fi and fantasy” section?

Sunburned, sore, and satisfied

November 14th, 2011

I said I would never run a marathon. Marathons are long, bad for the knees, unnecessarily strenuous, require a lot of training time I don’t have… And as it turns out, they’re a healthy way to feel satisfied with one’s progress. So I ran one. It hurt. And I’m happy about it.

My father belongs to the school of thought that there is no point in doing anything without tangible benefit to one’s family or society. This includes going back to school for the fun of it, running marathons, or having hobbies. I must have inherited some of his sense of productivity, but not the discipline to see it through. If you can’t pass your DNA down to your kids, the last resort of human significance tends to be work. Work–and life–are not satisfying unless they allow you to be creative. To be curious and knowledgeable and practical and clever all at once, in a single inventive spark.

Running a marathon is still its own thing. It’s usually ugly and smelling and shambly. It has no higher purpose unless you invent one for it. You can stay healthy on far less exercise. There’s a study out there somewhere that says exercise reduces your cognitive function to 2 percent of its normal capacity because the rest of your body is screaming for the oxygenated blood normally reserved for your brain. And as a social event, well, as one little girl’s sign proclaimed from yesterday’s crowd, a marathon is the “Worst Parade Ever.”

And yet, you still wake up with the satisfaction of having done something that is somehow good. It is a shared memory with my wife and her family, who ran it with us. It got me out of my chair. For someone in a creative profession, where some much of one’s success depends on luck and other people’s judgment, it’s also nice to set out at 8 a.m. and achieve a pervasive sense of completion by noon of the same day.

And really, best of all, after running for over four hours in the sun and humidity: cold water and fresh bread never tasted so good.

  • Archives