Never Too Late to Learn

Yvonne and I took Robert McKee’s “Story” seminar last weekend. It was held in Toronto over three (very long) days. Here I am at the end of it.

Yeah, it was tough. Good, but tough.

The seminar focused on screenwriting, but the techniques apply to story-telling of any kind. It’s something we could have used seven or eight years ago, when we started our first novel. The project later evolved into Speechless, but in its early form, “Unspeakable” may have been a more fitting title.

Having written non-fiction with relative ease, we were a trifle over-confident. How hard could a novel be? All it takes is a cool concept, right? And we thought we had that. “Unspeakable” featured two protagonists, one a political speechwriter, the other a camera technician (any resemblance to our biographies is purely coincidental), who exchanged funny and fascinating stories about their professional lives through an e-mail dialogue.

Although it took three times as long to write as our first book, we managed to churn out a draft. It comprised dozens, maybe hundreds, of these e-mails going back and forth, back and forth, on and on and on for 564 pages, single-spaced.

There were a few funny moments, but it definitely wasn’t a story. There was no structure to speak of.

Could we see that at the time? Nope. We thought it was a rather fine piece of comic fiction.

Our then-agent, unfortunately, disagreed. “Publishers aren’t interested in epistolary fiction anymore,” she wrote. You could tell she was typing with one hand as she pinched her nose with the other. “No one would want to read about a politician with a flatulence problem anyway. Flatulence is not funny.”

Let me tell you, I worked for a woman who had that very problem, and in a corporate setting flatulence can be very funny indeed. Especially if you’re as immature as I am.

At any rate, our agent was missing the point. Our book, if we dare call it that, was the opposite of what McKee calls, “a good story, well told.” It was just a string of anecdotes going nowhere fast—yet somehow not fast enough.

Our agent fell speechless from horror, leaving us to figure out what to do with what we were beginning to sense was a piece of crap. After much wringing of hands, we asked our former editor, now freelancing, to take a look.

She didn’t mince words. “This isn’t working,” she said. “Break it into two books and find a story arc for each. Write it in straight narrative. And read “How to Write a Damn Good Novel.”

Recognizing good advice when we heard it, we got down to work. And a couple of months later, she pronounced the first 50 pages of our new version quite readable: “Now you’ve got it. Keep going.”

The farting politician disappeared in revision, along with everything else we thought we could be sued for. When we were satisfied, we sent Speechless directly to Red Dress Ink, which had recently launched a chick lit imprint.

Here’s what it says on the back cover:

Libby McIssac is known for two things: catching bridal bouquets and having a way with words. Since the former isn't something that looks good on a resume, she's parlayed the latter into a new career as a political speechwriter. But just as she's making sure her boss looks as if she knows something about…well, anything, Libby's world is turned upside down.

Enter a handsome British consultant who upsets the delicate chain of command around the office and somehow always gets what he wants. Including Libby?

When a media leak of a big-time scandal sends everyone into a tailspin, Libby fears she may get caught in the crossfire. Cue the fake alliances, the secrets, the sex, the subterfuge and the hidden friendships.

Welcome to the world of politics, where perception is everything, nothing is as it seems and the last thing you want is to be left speechless.

After taking McKee’s seminar, I can see room for improvement. Still, we have a soft spot for this book, the first of our seven novels. At the very least, it helped me exorcise a few professional demons.

This week, we’ll share a couple of copies with you. Send us an e-mail and we’ll draw two winners. Note that while it’s pretty tame (except for that one scene that scandalized my father, but that’s another story), we wrote this book with adult readers in mind.