Musings Of A New Southern Man

We like to make heroes of those who press on against mounting odds, so Kathryn Stockett qualifies. For those who don't recognize the name, she is the author of "The Help," the hugely successful novel about African American domestics in Mississippi during the turbulent years of the Civil Rights movement. Do I praise her for diving into sensitive subject matter? Not now. If she had written the book in the 1960s or early 1970s, then yes. I regard Stockett as a hero because she stayed with her dream. She received 60 rejections from agents before one finally took "The Help" as a worthy project. Sixty!!!! She went for more than three years, sending out query after query. Rejection letter after rejection letter followed, some of them with nasty wording about her ability to write. But let's analyze this just a bit. There were 60 agents armed with extensive college background in fiction writing, 60 agents with experience in the publishing trade, 60 agents who had

Ken Kesey and I have been spending late nights together. That's one of the great things about literature ... the ability to spend time with an author even though he has been dead for almost 10 years. His work lives on. I have been struck by Kesey's opening to "Sometimes a Great Notion" when compared to some of the publishing do's and don'ts that many agents accent. One don't is, "Don't put backstory early in your novel." Another rule, judging by just about everything I've read lately, is to make chapters shorter ... don't let things drag on. So what is Kesey's opening to "Great Notion" all about? The first chapter is nearly 45 pages long. Almost all of it is backstory. I can imagine Kesey's reaction if some agent tried to tell him that opening would never work. Oh, my, what a ruckus!!!! Pity that poor agent. One of the early mentors in my journalistic career was a brilliant man named Lyman Jones. He had been a

My latest rewrites have been a fantastic experience. My first John Craft chapter is split into two. The introduction to Sean McNabb is completely different ... much more streamlined, much more to the point. I have added a bit of a preamble, in which one of my characters is up at night and thinking about one of the main points of the book ... which I will detail later. I also am learning to write. Not write in a journalistic sense ... I have done that for 37 years ... but as a novelist. My biggest flaw earlier was that I was still writing like a journalist. When we write a story for a newspaper, we have 10 to 30 inches (that latter number is generous on most newspapers) to tell about the event or person. We get in, establish facts, give supporting information, wrap it up. I was writing the opening of my novel the same way ... and it doesn't work. Or at least good novels don't work that way. The key for me? I am relaxing as a writer. My later chapters let events and character

None of you know Sean McNabb, because I have been keeping him a secret. I have trumpeted this great writing project I have done but told you very little about it. I don't want to give away plot, don't want to put sections of the novel online lest I start the publishing clock ticking. I am still sold on the idea, but I need to improve the writing. The silence from agents is telling me that. So that is what I'm about to do ... and Mr. McNabb is none too happy that he is going to get jerked around again. So, with no more hesitation, here is Sean, one of my two protagonists. Young man, not quite 30. Divorced, talented, committed to his job and his dreams, damaged goods by history, motive and happenstance, recovering self-absorbed fool and still addicted to hope. He is trying to smoothe the rough edges of himself and his life, and some others are happy to take part in the project. Sean: So, what's all this crap I'm hearing about you changing me? Haven't you done