The event drastically improved my pitch, enhanced my story, and led to a full manuscript request from one of my dream publishers.

The conference (part of Algonkian Writers Conferences) promises to:

[…] provoke an aspiring author like you into further editing and refining your work in order to make it as competitive as possible, and when ready, pitching it to faculty professionals utilizing a strategy and format that greatly increases the chances of selection, and therefore, publication.

Why did I attend? (And who is NYWTP for?)

My manuscript felt ready. I’d been querying since March 2026, but after months of form rejections, I knew something had to be wrong. But what?

NYWTP lists the benefits and perks of attending, but specifically I was drawn to this:

Perfect! Active, tenured industry professionals will tell me what’s wrong with my pitch and how to fix it. I thrive on harsh critical feedback, so I approached the event with an open mind—ready to listen, absorb, and change my manuscript, if necessary.

To be honest, the NYWTP website felt outdated and difficult to navigate. I almost didn’t register. But after much googling and researching the faculty, I decided to go for it.

What actually happened at the event

I wouldn’t call this a “conference” because that word evokes images of discussion panels or seminars. This is more like an “intensive pitch workshop”. My autistic brain panicked at the lack of explicit information on what exactly would happen over the four days. The schedule on the site was not detailed enough for me.

Here’s what actually happened:

Day 1 (Thursday)

The location is on 8th Avenue between 35th and 36th streets in NYC in a sun-drenched rehearsal studio with mirrored walls (which can be concealed by velvety black curtains on rails) and blonde wooden flooring. You will hear aspiring Broadway performers belting out tunes in adjacent studios and see young ballerinas dutifully attending classes.

You will sit on folding chairs all four days. They are not that comfortable. There are two tables in the room, and one is occupied by your session leader.

All attendees are split amongst three session leaders by genre. Since I write science fiction, I was in the group with Michael Neff, which I considered lucky because he runs the show.

Eleven attendees were in my group, with genres spanning fantasy, sci-fi, and young adult.

Day One began at 9:30am and ran until 4:00pm with a 1.5-hour break for lunch at noon. (Lunch not provided, so BYO or head to any of the countless places to eat nearby).

Everyone in our SFF group sat in a semi-circle on folding chairs, and Michael called on each of us to present our current (bad) pitch to the entire class.

I was called on first, and Michael interrupted my pitch several times with questions or commentary. But I was there to learn, so I listened and took notes.

These first 30-ish minutes with me were extremely productive, as Michael’s feedback style is direct and succinct. He will simply say, “That’s not interesting enough,” or “That won’t work for your audience.” He will ask clarifying questions to drill into the true heart of your story and provide guidance on how to refocus your pitch for maximum impact.

As the day progressed, everyone got their 30-ish minutes, and everyone had a different experience (as each pitch is, of course, completely different).

At the end of Day 1, Michael said, “Go home and rewrite your pitch using all you learned today.”

So, that is what I did.

Day 2 (Friday)

9:30am - 3:00pm (same 1.5-hour break for lunch)

In the morning, we went around the room again with our revised pitch. Michael reviewed each and provided feedback (aka eviscerated).

For me, Michael made a key suggestion: “Why not move [this plot point] earlier? That’s your story, right there.”

I updated my pitch in real time, and the revised story structure suddenly felt much stronger. The updated pitch exposed a weakness in my novel, and fixing it meant rewriting the manuscript. The story’s true hook was buried too deep, but if pulling that forward created a better, more publishable novel, I was happy to make the change.

In the afternoon, we pitched to Brendan Deneen (an acquiring editor at Blackstone Publishing and book-to-film/TV producer). We all sat in that same room and pitched him one-by-one. All of the pitches improved from Thursday, with clearer stakes, tighter causality, and higher tension.

Brendan provided real-time feedback. “I’ll tell Michael who I want to request from after the conference,” he said.

The day ended when we finished pitching him.

Day 3 (Saturday)

9:30am - 2:15pm (same 1.5-hour break for lunch)

Time for the main event. Private pitches. No group setting. Same room, but now everyone waits in the hallway until their turn, feverishly studying pitches while waiting for that door to creak open and admit the next aspiring author.

We pitched Matt Rusin (assistant editor of Tor) in the morning and Gemma Creffield (editorial director at Solstice) in the afternoon.

When I pitched Matt, he immediately requested the full manuscript!

BUT—I still had rewrites (remember that revision to my pitch on Day 2?). I told Matt, and he said it was fine to send whenever complete.

He also asked about my other projects, so I described my draft corporate horror novel, to which he also said, “Send that to me whenever it’s done.” He sounded very excited about corporate horror—”not enough of it out there,” we both agreed. He asked about what else I’ve written (to which I admitted fanfiction, which I guess is not as frowned upon as it used to be).

Gemma felt my pitch was a little long. Michael privately disagreed—another reminder of that unavoidable subjectivity.

Anyway, a very positive day for me!

But wait—we only pitched two people and it took the entire day? Yes. The day ended when everyone had pitched.

During the downtime between pitches, Michael Neff was roaming and available. He is an incredible resource, so I was happy to pick his brain about the publication industry, sci-fi book market, title ideas, comps, commercial trends. Michael felt like a goldmine of knowledge.

That night, I polished up a pitch for my corporate horror novel because I wanted to get his feedback between pitches for my sci-fi novel.

There was an optional, informal get-together at a nearby bar after the pitches, but I opted out and scurried home to start writing, dazed and determined from my meeting with Matt.

Day 4 (Sunday)

10:00am - 12:00pm

The fourth and final pitch was in the morning with Gabbie Pachon (associate editor at Penguin). She was incredible because she read my pitch on my laptop and quickly typed in a couple edits to sharpen it. Instant, professional feedback.

She didn’t request my work, but my pitch improved within seconds in her hands.

I ran my corporate horror pitch by Michael privately and received key, critical feedback. Incredibly helpful as I delve into my second draft with that project!

What I walked away with:

• A revised, stronger pitch

• A full manuscript request from Tor

• Ideas of how to push myself to enhance a pitch (what works / what doesn’t)

• Renewed excitement to rewrite my manuscript

• Experience pitching to several industry professionals

Was the NY Write to Pitch Conference worth it?

This is a pricey conference at a cool $895 for the 4 days. Most of this time was spent hearing evaluations of other people’s pitches, but the time spent improving my own felt genuinely priceless.

After two days of listening to Michael dissect pitches, here are the recurring pitch problems I noticed:

• Hook buried too deep (my problem)

  • What is the single most interesting thing that happens to your character and can you bring that forward?

• Not enough tension in the story itself

  • Can you escalate conflict even more, at every turn, caused by your character’s actions?

• Causality not clear

  • Can the listener of the pitch clearly picture how the story plays out? Cut out anything that doesn’t directly serve “this leads to this, which leads to this” (the “But/Therefore” exercise is helpful here)

• Main character motivations not clear

  • Does the main character have a sufficient, logical, ironclad reason for doing any of this (even if they are wrong)?

NYWTP requires you to have a completed manuscript and draft pitch before you enter, which I understand since you will be actively pitching industry pros who may want your manuscript asap. But I actually wish I’d been able to get this type of feedback on my pitch BEFORE I’d even started draft one. Because the key takeaway was basically “your pitch isn’t publishable because your novel has a deeper story problem.”

Now, I am rewriting my manuscript (for the eighth time). I have no regrets, and I am motivated to rewrite and edit so I can submit the finished, polished work to Tor.

The real test of “is this worth it” is whether this leads to a publication deal. I hope I can provide an emphatic “yes” to that in several months.

As of right now, the event time and cost felt ‘worth it’ for me. And I think Michael Neff will be a great resource to lean on in the future.

(Although it makes me sad that money seems to be the fastest way to network and get “in”.)

Should you go?

Yes. If you can afford it and you want to publish traditionally.

• Be prepared to rewrite everything

• Be prepared for harsh critical feedback (don’t take it personally)

• Come with an open mind, listen, and ask questions

• Capitalize on your time with your session leader in-between pitches

Back to writing. Good luck, everyone!

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

None of my posts are written by or enhanced with AI. Em-dashes & errors are strictly my own.

I paid for two confirmed literary agents to review my first chapter. On QTCritique, the literary agents are anonymized, with only username, price per word, rating, and turnaround time visible. So I chose two agents at random with the same rating who offered the same price and speed.

When submitting work for a confirmed agent’s review, I can pick genre and sub-genre (if relevant), then provide a title, paste in my words, and voila! Once payment is confirmed, the agent receives my submission.

The results were surprising.

But not really surprising in hindsight.

I received two polar opposite reactions.

The QTCritique system allows the reviewer to highlight passages and then flag a pre-selected reason from a drop-down (i.e. “Fragment” or “Punctuation”) and/or write their own comment. Red = highlighted by the reviewer as something that’s not working. Green = highlighted as something that’s working well.

Let’s call them Agent on the Left and Agent on the Right (based on the screen cap above, which is my actual submission and their responses).

Agent on the Right—real quotes:

• “The opening is intriguing. The setting, the way [the world] works, and the inquisitive nature of the protagonist is clear.”

• “Page turning.”

• “Nothing boring about these pages.”

• “Vivid descriptions. The transitions into people, interactions, the [setting], [antagonist’s] role, [concept] are all well described.”

• “This would be a request from me!” —— Oh, if only I knew who you were!

Agent on the Left—real quotes:

• “I did not get a clear picture of the setting or our characters from this opening.”

• “Right now there is a lot of confusion and we aren’t fully immersed as we could be.”

• “This is a little hard to follow.”

Now, I want to make it very clear that all feedback is useful data. I am extremely grateful for both agents taking their time to provide thoughtful comments. (Agent on the Left provided meaningful information for me, which I took into account during a final polish pass on the first chapter.)

My initial reaction was shock.

How could two literary agents—both of whom accept “Science Fiction” for review on QTCritique—provide such opposite remarks? What am I to do with this information?

An autistic trait of mine is that my brain needs considerable processing time for any new information. Sometimes days or weeks need to pass before I formulate a logical understanding or response.

Here is my conclusion (which feels obvious in hindsight and correlates to all the publishing anecdotes I’ve heard/read):

Literary agents are highly subjective, and even if they ‘accept’ your genre, it’s very possible that their reading style will not jibe with your writing style.

The best advice remains relevant: Keep querying. Keep researching agents. Because all it takes is one right fit.

How to find the right fit?

• Research your comps. Who reps them?

• Find a published author whose writing style reflects your own. Who reps them?

• For the agents on your querying list, are there keywords on their MSWL (manuscript wishlist) that hint at the reading experience they may prefer?

I know, I know—“it’s all about the right agent fit” isn’t a revelation. But it’s fascinating to see it in practice.

My takeaway: the first pages may already be working for the right reader. So, I will keep querying, keep researching, and find the right agent fit. And you should, too (if you are in the trenches with me)!

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

None of my posts are written by or enhanced with AI. Em-dashes & errors are strictly my own.

My goal was to strengthen the story before writing to ultimately reduce revision drafts.

I chose this method because of countless positive reviews.

I have zero affiliation with the author.

So, what have I been working on?

‘Draft Zero’ of my corporate horror novel.*

At this stage, my only concern is getting the story down on the page. The revisions, re-writes, and edits will come later (which I am genuinely looking forward to).

The Data (so far)

• 32k words written

• 16 chapters complete (out of 24 planned)

• 40 days of evenings and weekends, usually in 1-2 hour blocks, devoted to writing

• 10 revisions to the planned Story Genius “Scene Cards”

How did using the Story Genius method perform?

Given my limited time available for writing, having clean story points to follow was helpful. I spent less time considering what happens next, because I’d already figured that part out.

However, as I approached the mid-point of the novel, I realized the plot felt too stiff. Too planned. (Because it was).

Pantser instincts kicked in. What should happen at this point, organically? If I were the reader, what would keep me engaged right now?

I made changes, impacting characters and transforming the outline into a much more interesting story. The Story Genius method felt like it was falling apart.

BUT, the scaffolding was in place for me to surgically enhance or tear down to refine the story as I wrote.

I re-wrote the last half of the novel’s outline (although, it still followed the barest arc of the original).

The Bottom Line

Did the Story Genius method help me reduce time writing this draft?

Yes, so far. The writing is flowing faster with the threads of my general outline alongside it.

Did the Story Genius method alter or remove the joy of pantsing while I drafted?

Quite the opposite! I have been keenly engaged with and excited to write this novel. The characters and world feel alive from the get-go, and I believe that’s partly because the Story Genius method requires the author to fully flesh out their main character—including motives, flaws, backstory, desires—as well as their world and supporting cast.

So, when I stepped into page one, I knew exactly who my protagonist was, what he was doing, and why.

Would I recommend the Story Genius method to other pantsers who struggle to make the most of their writing time?

Yes, although I really only found the first portion of Cron’s novel helpful. Building the main character’s desire, misbelief, and backstory became instrumental in the drafting process, because I could easily reference snippets of their history and tie those threads more relevantly to the plot and motivations.

FWIW, I did not find the “Scene Cards” themselves exceptionally helpful, although they did give rise to my own frenzied bullet points once the novel began organically evolving on its own past the midpoint.

Next up:

Finishing draft zero!

Since my goal is to see if using the Story Genius method reduces revisions, I’m excited to see how many drafts will lead to my final, polished version. I’m guessing…four.

I’m playing around with loglines in the meantime.

Which of the below do you like? Would you read this book?

Current high-concept logline:

A pharmaceutical company generates its life-saving cancer drug through quarterly ritual human sacrifice, orchestrated by a mysterious Black Box beneath its headquarters. The corporate executive responsible for ensuring each “lay-off” happens without a hitch has been the system’s most reliable operator, until one ritual fails, and his investigation into why makes him the next target.

A bit more emotion / character-driven:

A man who has spent eighteen years believing one death per quarter was the price of keeping countless cancer patients alive must decide whether the truth—if death was ever necessary to begin with—is worth risking his own life to prove.

*Inspired by my own experience working in a corporate hellscape for too many years.

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

None of my posts are written by or enhanced with AI. Em-dashes & errors are strictly my own.

This article covers the second half of the book’s “Part III: Creating an External Gauntlet to Spur your Protagonist’s Inner Struggle”, concluding Cron’s method.

My goal in testing this method is to strengthen the story before writing so I can deliver the best possible plot right away and reduce revision drafts.

I chose Story Genius because of countless high praise reviews. I have zero affiliation with the author.

The Story Genius “Blueprint”

The second half of Cron’s book focuses on bridging the novel’s opening with its closing via creation of scene cards.

The Alpha Point is the key role the scene will play in the novel’s cause-and-effect trajectory. It must answer: Why is this scene necessary?

The ‘consequence’ effect is what takes place in the scene itself, not the consequence it will have on the next scene.

The ‘realization’ must lead to action. Every scene must produce a hard-won change for the protagonist, both externally and internally (even if only a little).

‘And so?’ is what must happen next as a result of this scene. It is concrete and action-based.

As a reminder, the “Third Rail” is the conflict between two things inside the protagonist:

1. a deep-seated desire

2. the defining misbelief that stands in the way of achieving that desire

Together, these create the emotional jolt that forces the protagonist to struggle with what really matters most to them.

Time spent

• ~6 hours of reading and working through the prompts over 2 weeks

• ~8 hours drafting three revisions of story cards, bridging the opening to the ending.

• ~1 hour organizing world-building and character information on my Google Drive.

• ~3 hours developing supporting characters and their subplots/motivations

Magic happened

Once the novel was bookended with first and final story scene cards, creative juices started flowing. Within a few hours, I’d hastily bullet-pointed the entire novel. Transforming this rough stream into scene cards helped me visually ensure that each event moved internal and external plots forward, progressing the protagonist’s transformation in meaningful ways.

My first compilation of scene cards made me realize the story lacked supporting characters.

As I considered who my protagonist would encounter and why they would be important—what they could represent or how they could move the external plot forward—characters either serving as a mirror, antagonist, or aide to the internal plot sprung to life.

I didn’t rely much on the method at this point. But I think Cron’s book would likely help anyone struggling with this phase of drafting their outline. There are chapters dedicated to finding ways the plot can (and should) go wrong to challenge your main character and how obstacles from the protagonist’s past can return as subplots to either help or hinder their progress.

For me, the key takeaway when building the novel’s ‘blueprint’ was this:

Why does my plot need this scene to happen?

Logistically, why can it happen?

Why would it happen, given the protagonist’s inner struggle?

These three questions also helped frame the inclusion of supporting characters—how and when they show up and why they are specifically important to the main character’s journey.

YMMV.

The outcome

• Created 21 scenes over 24 pages (8,700 words) from a 4,200 word bulleted bridge between the novel’s opening and closing.

  • Revised from first draft of 16 scene cards over 13 pages (5,200 words).

    • What changed: Act three wasn’t challenging protagonist enough; the ‘win’ felt too easy. No supporting characters visible.

  • Revised from second draft of 18 scene cards over 15 pages (5,800 words).

    • What changed: Supporting characters needed subplot layers and depth.

• Mapped each scene to a story beat (a la “Saves the Cat Writes a Novel”) within a three act structure to ensure cause-and-effect trajectory.

• Developed 5 supporting characters—spent ~1.5 hours researching name meanings because, hey, they gotta have relevant subliminal symbolism.

• Outlined 4 key world-building elements over 5 pages (900 words)

• Tweaked ending for sequel set-up (a fun last-minute addition that bubbled to the surface once a supporting character developed)

So, what’s the point?

Is this method going to help me reduce revision drafts?

Will the writing flow smoother/faster now that I’ve dug up the core story?

Next comes the real test: whether this outline makes a difference as I dive into writing ‘draft zero’ of this manuscript. I’ll provide an update after completion!

I’d love to hear what method (if any) you find most helpful for your creative writing.

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

None of my posts are written by or enhanced with AI. Em-dashes & errors are strictly my own.

This article covers “Part II: Creating the Inside Story” and half of “Part III: Creating an External Gauntlet to Spur your Protagonist’s Inner Struggle” of Cron’s book.

I chose this method because of countless high praise reviews.

I have zero affiliation with the author.

Time spent

• ~23 hours of reading and working through the prompts over 1.5 months

• Three complete read-throughs of “Part II”

• Five attempts at answering the questions posed

• 36 handwritten notebook pages with multiple “insights” circles and then scribbled over.

• 30 typed pages of scratchwork—all except 9 ultimately discarded.

Where I struggled:

1. My story idea was a high-concept ‘what-if’ about an object and a setting, not a person. Cron’s template seems to favor a fledgling idea about a person.

   1. Because of this, the on-going example story was not helpful to me, and I struggled with the gap between establishing the ‘what if’ and creating the protagonist.

   2. However, following the structure anyway forced me to reframe my concept and envision the protagonist who would most effectively illustrate the point of the story (without diluting the original idea).

   3. This in turn enriched the protagonist—to the point where they emerged almost fully formed once I got the initial grasp.

2. As a pantser, the overall process felt extremely constraining and, at times, frustrating.

   1. At first, I just wanted to “get to writing”, but when I hit my first roadblock following the structure, a lightbulb went off because I was forced to re-think the protagonist’s motives.

   2. I went through the template five times because four times I hit places where I could not successfully answer the question. The story was critically falling apart in those moments.

   3. I kept working through it until the story felt solid.

   4. If I had just continued following my original idea and dove right into writing, I likely would have spent many hours having fun yet not actually achieving my goal of crafting a story with a clear point (why should readers care?).

   5. Remarkably, as the answers surfaced more clearly with each iteration, the story began organically developing on its own. This felt like the story magic of “pantsing” that I love and chase. I did not expect this result.

The outcome

Following Cron’s structure (see template below) enabled me to:

• Flesh out the protagonist, specifically defining how their beliefs shaped their worldview and what led them to the beginning of the book.

• Connect the protagonists’s desire and misbelief to power my core concept, which generated plot.

• Align external plot (events happening TO the character) with internal progress (character’s transformation as a result OF the external plot).

• Craft a “what’s the point” thoroughfare to thread the novel together

• Choose an inciting incident strong enough to carry both external and internal plot

• Plot an ending that can guide the narrative to a satisfying conclusion

The Story Genius template worked!

So far.

Re-doing the idea five times allowed me to flesh it out and confidently step into the next phase.

I will continue chronicling my journey in the hopes of helping other pantsers who may be considering a new method like Story Genius.

Next up: “Building Your Blueprint” and working with story cards!

Subscribe now

Leave a comment

THE STORY GENIUS TEMPLATE

For reference, here are my notes after reading the first half of this book several times. YMMV.

The “What if….”

What’s the point?

• The point is what is borne out in the protagonist’s inner struggle.

• The ‘what if’ centers on the external plot that will trigger that struggle, ultimately making the point.

• A working ‘what if’ provides a big “X marks the spot” so you know where to begin digging for the specifics that will bring your story to life and make the point you want to make.

How to get there:

1. The first pinprick: describe the instant the idea grabbed you.

2. Why do you care? Why do you care about the story you want to tell.

3. What is your point? In a few concise lines; reduce to its essence.

The protagonist:

• On the day before the novel starts, they start with 2 things:

  1. A deep-seated desire, something they’ve wanted for a long time

  2. A defining misbelief that stands in the way of achieving that desire. This is where the fear that’s holding them back comes from.

     • Together, these become the novel’s ‘third rail’: the live wire that everything that happens must touch, creating the emotional jolt that forces your protagonist to struggle as he tries to figure out what to do. This is what lets us know what matters most to him.

• What does the character enter the novel wanting, even if they don’t think they have a chance of getting it.

• Why does he want it? What will getting it mean to him?

  1. What we keep most hidden about ourselves is exactly what we’re dying to know about others. Even more liberating is discovering that what we’ve always seen as a negative in our own life might actually be a positive.

  2. This is what makes the reader care about whether or not the protagonist gets what they want (knowing what it means to the protagonist).

  3. Often, what the protagonist thinks achieving the goal will mean to them turns out to be very wrong, and is the point of the story.

The misbelief:

• This is what keeps the protagonist from nailing their goal.

• Something the protagonist honestly believes to be true.

• How the protagonist overcomes this misbelief is what the story is about.

• A misbelief feels identical to a belief that’s spot on. → The misbelief feels right because at a crucial moment in their life, it was right.

• Defining misbeliefs tend to spring up during difficult situations; to clue us into what seems to be the way of the world.

• Given their misbelief, what do they think the very worst thing that could happen would be? Given his misbelief, what does he fear is true about how the world works?

  • This will drive the whole novel.

• Find the defining moment in their past. What existing belief did it topple?

• It’s not the scope of the scene, but the protagonist’s internal reaction that counts.

Going into any scene, ask:

1. What does my protagonist go into the scene believing?

2. Why do they believe it?

3. What is my protagonist’s goal in the scene?

4. What does my protagonist expect will happen?

   1. What triggers their misbelief might be the realization that they’re getting what they want for the exact opposite reason than they thought they would.

The plot — before the novel begins:

• Trace how the internal battle between protagonist’s desire and their misbelief has affected the story-specific decisions they’ve made in their life.

• Capture a moment when their misbelief was the deciding factor in a major decision they made. Each decision will change the external course of their life, upping the stakes.

• They will most likely have a real shot at getting the thing they want, and something will happen that causes their misbelief to prevent them from getting it.

  • This sharpens their desire and strengthens their misbelief, expanding its influence on their life.

• These scenes are crossroads in their life with escalating, ongoing ramifications rather than moments that exemplify a time when they acted on their misbelief. → External turning points that cause the misbelief to deepen.

The plot — when the novel starts:

• The novel starts when life will no longer allow the protagonist to put off going after that thing they’ve wanted, regardless of how much their misbelief suggests they sit this one out.

  • The one thing the misbelief hasn’t crushed is their desire for that thing they want.

• Unavoidable external force, forcing internal change. Protagonist has no choice but to take action.

• What unavoidable external change will catapult the protagonist into the fray, triggering their internal battle?

• Even if he’s ignoring the problem, when does the problem have enough firepower to override his ability to ignore it?

• Problem must escalate itself and cause other problems to build in unison.

1. Can the problem sustain the entire novel from the first page to the last?

   1. Can the problem build?

   2. Is there a real-world, specific, impending consequence that this escalating problem will give my protagonist no choice but to face?

   3. Is there a clear-cut deadline, a ticking clock counting down to that consequence?

   4. If at any point, the protagonist can simply decide to give up without suffering great personal cost due to their inaction, we do not have a story.

2. Is the problem capable of forcing the protagonist to make the inner change that the novel is actually about?

   1. Will the problem’s impending consequence force the protagonist to struggle with their misbelief?

   2. Regardless of whether or not the protagonist achieves their goal, will the approaching consequences cost them something big, emotionally speaking?

Opening the novel:

• What specifically will trigger the protagonist’s decision to take that first step out of their comfort zone? (Ticking clock will lead directly to this answer).

• Surface events are never what the novel is truly about.

Closing the novel:

• What the protagonist will realize as they face the plot head-on.

• Capture the moment when the protagonist’s internal struggle ends, as their misbelief finally shatters and they see the world with new eyes — the ‘aha!’ moment. Often, this is what allows them to finally solve the external problem or make peace with it.

  • Comes near the end of the novel, but not necessarily at the very end when the plot itself concludes.

• The point is not that the protagonist makes the change, but how they get there internally that counts.

  • At the end, will the protagonist achieve their external goal?

    • Goal is to shove the protagonist as far out of their comfort zone as possible, the better for them to ultimately realize that it wasn’t nearly as comfortable or as safe as they’d thought.

  • What will change for the protagonist internally?

    • Misbelief is gone. What will the protagonist have realized?

  • What will happen externally in this scene that forces your protagonist to confront, and hopefully overcome, their misbelief?

    • The ‘aha!’ moment is what allows the protagonist to see things clearly for the first time and face the external problem head-on. As a result, their internal struggle is resolved, leaving them transformed (or, if it’s a tragedy, not).

    • What will happen plotwise to finally allow them to see their misbelief for what it is? And when that happens, how will the protagonist make sense of it internally?

  • Imagine the protagonist boxed into a corner with no choice but to take action. Or if they can choose not to take action, then make sure that by opting out, they would lose something they dearly want: often the most meaningful thing a person has is their sense of self-worth. The protagonist has arrived in the land of ‘now or never’.

  Subscribe now

  Share

  Leave a comment

  None of my posts are written using AI. The em-dashes and any errors are strictly my own.

Here’s how that manuscript evolved:

1st Draft

• Began: February 2024

• Completed: May 2024

• Word Count: 87,600

• Genre: Science Fiction (literary, speculative)

Self-editing feedback: The emotional punch of the protagonist’s escape near the end wasn’t landing upon re-reads.

My takeaway: I needed to develop the relationship between the protagonist and the character they are fleeing from at the end. To do this, I planned to put them in more scenes together.

I also decided I would pay independent beta readers (found via Fiverr) for honest critiques and began setting money aside for that.

2nd Draft

• Began: June 2024

• Completed: July 2024

• Word Count: 80,200

What changed: I lightly re-wrote the last third of the novel to switch out a supporting character in several scenes. This naturally developed the desired relationship with the protagonist and another character, and a pivotal scene sprang to life in the final act (a key betrayal, which hit like a gut punch—even I didn’t see it coming!)

Beta reader feedback: Loved it (especially the betrayal), but the expansive ending felt sudden (protagonist flees to an orbital trade station).

My takeaway: While the ending was intentionally widening the world-building, I didn’t want it to be jarring for the reader.

3rd Draft

• Began: November 2024

• Completed: March 2025

• Word Count: 93,000

What changed: I rewrote the ending, which organically expanded into some of the ideas that I originally planned for a sequel. The third act increased in length. I removed the orbital trade station scenes and kept the world-building contained to the planet.

Beta reader feedback: Not enough interiority for the protagonist. Specific technical details were incorrect. The ending felt like it should’ve naturally stopped roughly three chapters before the actual draft’s ending.

My takeaway: One of the beta readers has a background in systems engineering, and their technical notes helped me reshape the sci-fi tech for plausibility. I try to choose diverse readers from all backgrounds, and that greatly paid off!

4th Draft

• Began: April 2025

• Completed: July 2025

• Word Count: 77,800

What changed: Trimmed the ending, stopping at the protagonist’s thematic conclusion of their transformative arc. With every draft, I’m also re-reading the entire thing and often re-writing scenes and dialogue for better flow and increased inner thoughts for the protagonist (novel is first-person POV).

Beta reader feedback: Not enough agency for the protagonist and not enough interiority (different readers, same feedback!). Also, “you shouldn’t try to publish your novel traditionally. You’re still not good enough.”

My takeaway: This was the best round of beta feedback I received. One of the four readers cut right to the bone on what wasn’t working in my novel. I carefully reviewed the critique and set to work on improvements. Something about this specific feedback made it all click for me—I needed to seriously level up my game if I wanted to publish traditionally.

5th Draft

• Began: August 2025

• Completed: September 2025

• Word Count: 74,400

What changed: I revised the first half, set on improving pacing and sentence structure, cutting duplicative ideas or words. I wanted sharp word economy. I added a scene to enhance conflict around the mid-point.

I took an online Manuscript Publishing for Novelists course on Author’s Publish with Emily Harstone. The course ran one month during August.

I viewed a lecture on titles and brainstormed a new (more intriguing) title for my novel.

Beta reader feedback: Part of the online course involved receiving feedback, so I considered that as my ‘beta reader’ for this draft. The novel’s premise felt clear and compelling with a satisfying character arc, and I learned that the manuscript could be sold as “standalone with series potential”.

My takeaway: As part of the online course, I prepared a synopsis for querying literary agents. During this process, I learned an uncomfortable truth: my novel did not have clear, escalating stakes. There were internal stakes, sure, but the external threat wasn’t big enough.

I also struggled with comps for the query letter, so I set out to read/listen to as many sci-fi and speculative fiction books as possible, published within the last year. Thanks to Libby (app) and my trusty library card, I found two amazing comps.

6th Draft

• Began: September 2025

• Completed: December 2025

• Word Count: 73,700

What changed: The novel changed drastically when I introduced a looming external threat. The tone and themes shifted, even the setting altered slightly.

I re-wrote several key points in the novel, salvaging what I could from the underlying skeleton. My synopsis now had clear stakes and rising conflict, both internal and external.

Beta reader feedback: The narrative stalls in the second act, with the most interesting concepts feeling like they come too late. The world-building around the external threat needed a little more meat.

My takeaway: I couldn’t just revise bits and pieces; I need to rewrite the novel fully for maximum flow.

7th Draft (final manuscript)

• Began: December 2025

• Completed: February 2026

• Word Count: 67,500

I re-wrote the entire novel again, armed with skills that I picked up from craft research and beta readers to create crisp, clear sentences and kill my darlings for maximum engagement and streamlined pacing.

I pulled forward the most interesting plot reveal from chapter 22 (out of 25) to chapter 08, which prompted several other character development changes. All-in-all, the novel flourished.

Beta reader feedback: No notes! All of the readers thoroughly enjoyed it, with two commenting that they can’t wait for the eventual Netflix series (even though I asked for harsh critiques under a traditional publication lens).

My takeaway: I polished up my query letter, drafted a new 1-page synopsis, and began researching literary agents diligently.

I started querying in March 2026. Wish me luck!

Learnings from the process:

• Re-writing the entire novel became easier each time as the story surfaced and solidified. With every pass, the words flowed more cleanly, the emotions ran deeper. Tension rose naturally, and pressure for the characters felt inevitable.

• Honest beta readers were essential. When they were willing to provide harsh, direct feedback, the manuscript improved.

• I have no regrets, but in hindsight, those first 3-4 drafts were essentially a very long outline while I unearthed the real story.

  • The problem was that those 4 drafts took a year.

  • Had I spent 2-3 months outlining first, would I have been able to dive right into the writing that spawned draft seven?

  • Would writing the synopsis before completing the first draft had saved me months of revisions?

While I query this manuscript, I’m working on my next novel. As a pantser, it’s been challenging to follow “Story Genius” by Lisa Cron, but I am determined to give this method a try!

Finding the process that works best for the author can only elevate and expedite the writing, so I’m open to exploring all options until I find the best fit. Even if that means going back to pantsing and spending two years on a manuscript.

I’d love to hear your story. How many drafts did your first manuscript take? Or what draft are you revising now?

Subscribe now

Leave a comment

None of my posts are written using AI. The em-dashes above are strictly my own.

I get why people use it: AI is the shortcut. Having no free time is no problem when you have a chatbot and a couple of prompts. More posts = greater chance to be picked up in an algorithm. More subscribers = more success, especially for those who monetize.

And for aspiring authors, don’t we all feel pressured to have a successful platform to be considered for publication anyway? (Although, perhaps we shouldn’t feel this way.)

The problem is that AI output tends towards safe, predictable narration, instead of imparting new or surprising information.

(To be very clear, I do not agree with using AI to generate creative writing or content without explicitly stating it was AI-generated.)

People read to gain knowledge.

Even fiction. We read so we can imagine ourselves in the protagonist’s situation and vicariously learn through their adventures.

AI models are trained by ingesting existing information. So it makes sense that such a tool would be incapable of generating surprising, innovative content the way a human mind can. And that’s okay. (FWIW, I think AI has many fantastic applications across research, medicine, education, and more).

But using AI for social media feels counter-productive to the specific goal of building authentic relationships with other humans. For me, when I sense the AI-trademark formula and cadence, I stop reading. I lose interest.

AI doesn't seem like it can generate content that satisfies our desire to learn because its basis is nothing new.

But I wanted data to support this observation on AI’s ‘predictability’, so I decided to run an experiment with ChatGPT.

I gave ChatGPT the first chapter of my completed manuscript.

It knows nothing about my actual full work. My first chapter introduces characters, setting, a bit of world-building, and the inciting incident in ~2150 words.

I asked ChatGPT to read my first chapter and write the next two chapters to “continue the story naturally” and make the novel “as engaging as possible.” The prompt was to pretend it was writing for traditional publication and seeking literary representation.

The output wasn’t poorly written, but the story was…bland and predictable.

Then I gave it my actual next two chapters that I’d written.

I told it: “Please compare your 2 chapters to my 2 chapters through a traditional publication lens. Can you provide an analysis as if you were a literary agent for a big publisher?”

This is a snippet of the response I got:

Reading these through a traditional publication / agent submission lens, I think the chapters you provided are materially stronger and more publishable than the two I wrote.

If I were reading as a literary agent at a major agency, I would be more excited by your version.

Why: your chapters do something harder and better for a novel opening. They do not just escalate. They redefine the book.

My version develops the apparent premise in a clean, commercial way.

Your version does something more ambitious and more memorable.

Through a big-publisher lens, your version feels:

• less predictable

• more conceptually ambitious

• more likely to stand out in a submission pile

My version feels more conventionally commercial and clean, but also more like a version of a story an agent may already recognize.

Your version has more of the feeling: “oh, this book is doing something bigger than I expected.”

Fascinating.

Human-authored work may still continue to stand out through the ingenuity of our storytelling. (Although AI books may still sell for now).

Which brings me to this:

Authors Guild Expands “Human Authored” Certification Program to All Authors Nationwide

I’m very interested in how this all evolves.

For now, I’ll keep plugging away at my ‘social media platform’ and hopefully connect with fellow authentic humans.

Good luck, out there!

Subscribe now

Share

• Query letter - done!

• Polished manuscript in proper Shunn Formatting - done!

• QueryTracker and Publishers Marketplace research - done!

• List of agents I want to query and why - done!

• Synopsis…

“Needs to be roughly 500 words, fit on a single page, and summarize your novel completely.”

My first attempt was a laughable 9,000 words (of a 74,000 word manuscript). I trimmed it to ~550 words over 3 days.

Only the spine of the narrative with its two central characters remained. And that’s when I saw it.

Drafting the synopsis revealed a glaring problem in my story.

The stakes weren’t high enough.

The tension didn’t escalate fast enough.

The forward momentum wasn’t irresistible.

And I knew this simply wouldn’t generate agent interest.

So before revising the manuscript, I rewrote the synopsis first.

I asked myself:

• What would elevate the stakes for me as a reader?

• What would create urgency sooner?

• How can I strengthen the protagonist’s agency?

Once the synopsis reflected my responses, I had a clear framework on what needed to change. The next 2 months were focused on those revisions.

The result? A sharper narrative with clear, rising stakes.

Bonus: I already had the synopsis ready to go.

This process got me thinking… Should I have started with the synopsis from day one?

For context, I drafted this manuscript as a ‘pantser’ (someone who writes without a formal outline ahead of time) because discovery is fun. It’s energizing. But it also lengthened my revision process.

• The synopsis showed where applying creative pressure could naturally strengthen an organically-drafted story.

• Could writing the synopsis first create that strength earlier?

I plan to find out.

For my next novel, I am writing the synopsis first. My first attempt already exposed my initial idea’s weakness. Now I’m revising that synopsis before heading into Chapter 01.

Is writing the synopsis first suffocating the joy of discovery on the page?

Surprisingly, no.

The story is still evolving on its own, with vivid characters shaping the narrative as it springs from the synopsis into a messy outline. The difference is that the spine feels intentional from the start.

Subscribe now

Share

Weeknights are exhausting. Weekends fill with chores and responsibilities. Free time can feel paralyzing. There’s so much I want to do!

So I stopped trying to “fit it all in.”

Instead, I categorize the things I care about into three buckets: Mind, Body, and Soul.

Each plays a crucial structural role, and I balance them as needed to maximize the impact of my free time.

I’ll use a sampling of my “want” list as an example:

• Studying Japanese

• Reading

• Writing

• Playing video games

• Exercising

• Cooking or baking

Can I do all of these daily and work full-time? Not even close.

But I can rotate them intentionally.

The Trifecta

I assign each activity to the bucket it most strongly nourishes.

Mind (cognition, curiosity)

• Studying Japanese

• Reading

Body (physical benefit)

• Exercising

• Cooking or baking

Soul (engagement, restoration)

• Writing

• Playing video games

There’s overlap, of course. But I choose whichever category feels primary.

Then I carve out what I call my sacred time: usually one hour each night before bed, plus longer blocks on weekends. This is after work, chores, and family obligations.

I treat that hour like a meeting with myself. I don’t cancel it lightly.

During that hour, I choose the bucket that feels lowest.

Some things, like exercising and cooking, aren’t feasible during that nightly time, so instead, I build them into my routine in other ways: I carve out the mornings for workouts because exercising boosts my energy levels and sharpens my mental clarity, and I enjoy cooking dinner nightly because eating healthy ingredients makes me physically feel good.

What I Don’t Do

The harder part is deciding what not to do.

If I catch myself scrolling Instagram aimlessly or browsing clothing online without an actual need, I stop. There’s a voice that knows when I’m consuming instead of nourishing.

If an activity doesn’t meaningfully feed Mind, Body, or Soul, it’s not worth my limited free time.

That sounds severe, but the alternative is worse: feeling constantly imbalanced and not knowing why.

The Mood Test

The easiest way I know whether I’ve neglected a bucket is my mood.

Am I anxious? Agitated? Listless? Uneasy?
Am I having trouble sleeping? Spiraling into dark thoughts?

I’m not saying we should avoid “unpleasant” emotions, but if the overall trend feels damaging, I pause and assess.

And almost every time, I realize I’ve neglected one of the three.

“Why am I so irritable?”
Oh. I haven’t written in two days.

Got it.

The solution isn’t dramatic. I simply feed the missing bucket during my next block of sacred time.

The Future Self Test

When I’m unsure what to put on my “want” list, I ask one question:

What would most benefit my Future Self?

As long as I choose actions that align with my goals (and keep Mind, Body, and Soul in balance), I’m moving forward, even if the progress feels small.

Practice makes this easier. And life is just all practice, really.

If you work full-time and feel like there’s never enough time for what matters, try this:

• List the things you genuinely care about that can benefit your Future Self.

• Assign them to Mind, Body, or Soul.

• Protect one small block of sacred time.

• Choose intentionally for balance.

A simple framework like this also removes the friction of deciding, which maximizes your free time spent.

How does this apply to writing?

If writing is a pillar of your Soul, then make time to nourish it.

If you’ve been writing a lot and have felt frustrated or empty, try balancing with activities for your Mind or Body.

Movement bolsters creativity, so you may find yourself solving that stubborn plot problem while out on a stroll!

Good luck out there.

I’d been using beta readers on the previous drafts, carefully combing through their reviews and selecting the ones that specifically aligned with my genre.

Every reader provided actionable feedback, don’t get me wrong—but it wasn’t until someone told me, point-blank, that “this isn’t traditional publishing quality” that I thoroughly improved my writing.

Because that person was right.

I analyzed their feedback. I reworked the draft. I dissected lines and mercilessly cut what wasn’t directly supporting the novel (a cool 20k dropped off the word count).

It took months of my time, but it was worth it. Dialogue, pacing, descriptions—all improved!

That direct, cutting critique elevated the manuscript.

But what if you don’t agree with their feedback?

An example from my own experience is when a different beta reader left remarks that clearly demonstrated they hadn’t fully read some of the chapter. I wanted to respond, “Hey, I literally explained that in the previous paragraph! Just look at the preceding sentence!”

Except, that’s exactly the problem. If one person missed it, then many more would, too!

Every reaction from a beta reader is useful data. (Even if you disagree with their sentiment!)

Beta readers likely deal with plenty of sensitive authors who prickle at not-so-stellar feedback, which is exactly why I specifically ask for straightforward, hyper-critical remarks.

I can only improve if I know what’s not working.

So, next time you hire a beta reader, feel free to ask them:

• Tell me where you got bored

• Tell me where you’d stop reading

• Tell me what doesn’t feel publishable yet

Then, take action! Plus, it’s kinda fun to cut 20k off a manuscript.

“Kill your darlings,” as we all know. Good luck out there!

Subscribe now

I recently finished Mary by Nat Cassidy and felt awe-struck by the author’s talent. Specifically, the protagonist’s complete transformation from the beginning to end of the novel. (I also appreciated the afterword in which Cassidy, a cisgender male, directly addresses writing a menopausal narrator.)

Mary’s extreme character change in a narratively meaningful way made me realize that my own writing is too small, too safe.

That story arc I’m plotting (or already wrote) needs to be pushed 10x further! Because, ultimately, I want a story that has three things:

1. At least two moments where escape seems impossible for our main character(s).

2. A moment where the reader says out loud, “No way!” or “That’s crazy.”

3. Minimal prose that still evokes a vivid, cinematic scene.

As I’ve shifted from writing as a “not-serious hobby” to “aiming for traditional publication”, I want to study all I can: story beats, character arcs, twists that don’t feel contrived. How do the authors I most admire do it?

I had a few favorites pop during 2025, and I may analyze those in a future posts.

Here are some novels I read last year, in no particular order:

• Cold Eternity - S. A. Barnes

• Horror Tales of Japan - Kyota Ko

• Fever House - Keith Rosson

• Central Park West - James B. Comey

• We Used to Live Here - Marcus Kliewer

• What Feasts at Night - T. Kingfisher

• How to Make a Horror Movie and Survive - Craig DiLouie

• Audition - Katie Kitamura

• Episode Thirteen - Craig DiLouie

• The Compound - Aisling Rawle

• Red Rising - Pierce Brown

• The Merge - Grace Walker

• Krampus - Brom

• The Ruins - Scott Smith

• There is No Antimemetics Division - qntm

• Hole in the Sky - Daniel H. Wilson

• The Space Between Worlds - Micaiah Johnson

• Spread Me - Sarah Galley

• You Weren’t Meant to Be Human - Andrew Joseph White

• The Poppy Fields - Nikki Erlick

• Exordia - Seth Dickinson

• Rose/House - Arkady Martine

• Overgrowth - Mira Grant - a favorite!

• Star Wars: Trials of the Jedi - Charles Soule

• Slewfoot - Brom - a favorite!

• Ancillary Justice - Ann Leckie

• The Scourge Between Stars - Ness Brown

• Some Desperate Glory - Emily Tesh - a favorite!

• Infinity Gate - M.R. Carey

• The Terraformers - Annalee Newitz

• The Blighted Stars - Megan E. O’Keefe

• The Deep Sky - Yume Kitasei

On my nightstand right now:

• The Devils - Joe Abercrombie

• The Toll House - Carly Reagon

Have you read any of the above? What was your favorite novel that you read last year (regardless of publication date)?

Closing thought

Did you know ~40% of Americans read ZERO books in 2025, according to this survey from YouGov? This declining trend sadly points to a shrinking market for aspiring writers. So we all must work harder, push yourself further, and keep reading!

To become a great writer, I’ve got to read great writing!

Here’s to reading even more in 2026. Aiming for >95% of adult Americans. Fingers crossed!

Subscribe now

I’ve known it for a while.

Every author needs an established internet presence. I should have started this eight months ago, when I was wrapping up my penultimate draft and receiving advice that I need some sort of website.

Well, I’m finally taking the plunge after reading this article, in which author Karin Gillespie makes a persuasive case for why aspiring authors should embark on connecting with potential readers.

The problem is that I’m an extreme introvert.

Also, I’m autistic. Yep, let’s get that right out in the open. I was late-diagnosed (and now my whole life in retrospect makes sense, wow!), but this post isn’t about autism. I do, however, think it’s helpful framing for why I never engaged in any social media before. (I’ve probably had to say the words, “I know, I’m the last person on earth who isn’t on social media, but you can still reach me via text!” to more people than I can count).

Being an introvert means I recharge alone, performing solitary tasks. My flavor of autism means (in a nutshell, and I’m way oversimplifying here) that the way I communicate and interpret communication from others generally looks different from how others typically process information.

I avoided social media my entire life because I needed to avoid that unpleasant gap between how I digest and display emotions and how others perceive me.

Welp, that time is over. Because I want to be an author!

I’m here to connect.

I’m not really here to ‘build a brand’, though that would be a nice bonus!

I’m here to connect with fellow aspiring writers, to learn from agents and publishers, to improve my writing, and become part of a community, to the extent my introverted self will endure.

So what will I post about?

Specifically, I plan to share my writing journey and things I’ve learned along the way. I want to encourage others who are on this same path, because the world feels quite brutal at times, so why not help each other out?

One last thought…

Being a writer seems like the perfect passion for an introvert. Writing truly rejuvenates me and gives me life. My full-time day job is a corporate finance executive and accountant, which is fine because it pays the bills, but I’ve always known deep in my heart that I want need to be writer.

It’s dizzying to me that a path so perfectly suited for an introvert still requires extroverted activities.

BUT! I plan to make the most of it and reframe this “requirement” as a way to learn and connect with like-minded individuals.

If you are also a total introvert, let’s connect!

Then we can ignore each other 99% of the time and neither of us will be offended. :)

I’m looking forward to the journey ahead!