Today, as I was sitting at my desk, staring at a blank screen, trying to decide what I could possibly have left to write about when it comes to giving writing advice, a familiar song came on my Apple Music stream: “Rocket Man,” by Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Nancy is a huge Elton John fan, and has imparted an appreciation of his music to me over the years. We saw him live many years ago at the Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View, California, and it remains one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen. He closed with “Rocket Man,” and the place went nuts. It is a truly terrific song, one of his best, an iconic work of pop/rock.
It is also a deceptively simple song. It runs about four and a half minutes — a bit on the long side given when it was recorded — but lyrically it has just two sets of stanzas: each stanza four lines with a simple rhyme scheme. The two couplets of stanzas are separated by a chorus that is repeated twice. At the end of the song, the chorus is repeated twice more, and then the first line of the chorus is repeated several times as the song fades. That’s it.
As I mentioned in Monday’s post (not for the first time), I am a dedicated amateur photographer and a student of landscape and nature photography. One of my favorite artists is a guy name John Shaw, who is a renowned nature photographer and the author of many instructional books. In one of those books, he says this:
“Define your subject precisely and specifically, then include within the viewfinder only what fits your definition. My friend David Middleton [another accomplished nature photographer] has an analogy that applies here: he compares a photograph to its written description. It takes several paragraphs to describe a bad photograph, a few sentences for a mediocre photo, one sentence for a good picture, and just a phrase for a great photograph.” 1
I have written a lot of books and stories over the years. The truth is, I love all of them. I can tell you a hundred things I like about every book I’ve published, and I believe if I could convince people to read each of them, the books would be very popular. But the fact is, as is true with most authors, some of my books have done far better commercially than others. And, as it happens, the ones that have tended to do well are those that are most easily and succinctly described. The Thieftaker books are my most successful. How do I pitch them to interested readers? “These are magical mysteries set against the backdrop of the American Revolution.” The new series, the Chalice War, is also easy to describe — “It’s a modern urban fantasy steeped in Celtic mythology.” These books, I have found, are as easy to sell as the Thieftaker books, and that is saying something.
The three books of the Case Files of Justis Fearsson and the Radiants duology might well be my favorites of all the books I’ve written. They are exciting, emotional, filled with great characters, and paced within an inch of their lives. But they are far more difficult to describe in a single sentence than other books and, likely as a result, they have never done as well commercially as I hoped they would.
All of this by way of saying what ought to be obvious by now. Simplicity is good. We writers love to come up with twisty plots that surprise and thrill our readers. And yes, there is much to be said for a few good plot twists. And there are plenty of books published every year that are purposefully complex and meant to blow readers’ minds. Some of them do very well.
I would argue, though, that complexity for complexity’s sake is unnecessary, and perhaps even counterproductive. I know, I know. Publishers and agents are constantly saying that they want to see something new and innovative, something that turns expectations on their head. And when they say this, I think they believe it. But I can’t tell you how often I hear of writers who have ideas that are truly different and mind-bending, but who can’t sell them because publishers don’t know how to market them, or fear that readers aren’t ready for what the authors are trying to do. Indeed, it’s happened to me; I’ve had works rejected for those reasons.
I’m not saying that you should jettison a story because it is inherently complex, or because your plot has too many twists and turns. Far from it. If that’s the book you’re writing, the idea you have nurtured and developed, great. Enjoy! And I wish you every success with it.
But if you have a story that seems “too simple” (whatever the hell that means), embrace the simplicity. Complexity comes from many sources. Your plot and concept don’t have to be complicated for your book to have merit. Sometimes a straightforward story line allows us to delve into the complexities of character and relationships, which can be every bit as rewarding for readers, not to mention easier to follow.
Again, simple is good. Make your narrative only as complicated as it needs to be and no more. Or, put another way, just write your story and make it as good as it can be on your terms.
Keep writing!
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1 John Shaw, John Shaw’s Nature Photography Field Guide (Amphoto Books, 2000), p. 98.
And so, I undertake the writing of this post, this latest plea for help, with a good deal of reluctance. The thing is, though, I want this new series to do well. I love the books, the world, the characters, the storyline. And I have wonderful ideas for what might happen next in this universe. But if this first series doesn’t sell, I won’t get to publish more books featuring Marti and Kel, Riann and Carrie, Quinn and Orla, Manannán and the Furies. That’s the way the publishing world works. Our publishing reputation is really only as good as the sales of our most recent project. A harsh reality, but a reality nevertheless.
Which is another way of saying that innovation for the sake of innovation is not necessary or advised. Yes, it’s fun and challenging to write books or stories that don’t conform to simple linear narrative. I learned that with the Islevale Cycle, my time travel/epic fantasy series. And if you have ideas for playing with chronology or otherwise changing up your narrative style, by all means give it a try. But don’t feel that you have to. There are plenty of books, movies, plays, and stories out there that conform to regular old narrative form, and they do just fine. Better to write a story in the normal way and have it come out well, than to change things up just for the purpose of doing so, and thus leave your audience confused.
Let’s start with the obvious: 
I’m asked quite often if I still feel the thrill of seeing a new book in print, even after so many years and so many releases. And the truth is, I do. Sure, the very first time was unlike anything I’ve experienced since. I still remember getting a call from the local bookstore here in our little college town. My author copies hadn’t arrived yet, so when the store manager reached out to let me know the hardcover edition of Children of Amarid was in stock, I rushed over to see it. I’m pretty sure Nancy came with me.
All those great ideas you have for jacket art? They’re not as great as you think they are. Seriously. We are a writer. And we’re very, very good at that. We are NOT a graphic artist. We are NOT a marketing expert. I remember when the first Thieftaker novel went into production, I had what I thought was SUCH a wonderful idea for the jacket art. A can’t miss idea. PERFECT for the book. It wasn’t any of those things. The moment I saw Chris McGrath’s image for the book, which WAS brilliant and wonderful and perfect, I understood that no one should ever put me — us — in charge of selecting jacket art.
I continue to read through and revise the books of my Winds of the Forelands epic fantasy series, a five-book project first published by Tor Books in 2002-2007. The series has been out of print for some time now, and my goal is to edit all five volumes for concision and clarity, and then to re-release the series, either through a small press or by publishing them myself. I don’t yet have a target date for their re-release.
We are often our own most unrelenting critics. This is certainly true for me in other elements of my life. I am hard on myself. Too hard. And, on a professional level, I am the first to notice and criticize flaws in my writing. So reading through old books in preparation for re-release is often an exercise in self-flagellation. It was with the LonTobyn reissues that I did through Lore Seekers Press back in 2016. And it is again with the Winds of the Forelands books.
As I have read through this first book in the story, polishing and trimming the prose, I have rediscovered that narrative. I remember far less of it than I would have thought possible. Or rather, I recall scenes as I run across them, but I have not been able to anticipate the storyline as I expected I would. There are so many twists and turns, I simply couldn’t keep all of them in my head so many years (and books) later.