Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem are no strangers to the writing business. Between the two of them, they have published more than 600 short stories, 20 novels, and 10 short story collections. Not to mention numerous articles, essays, poems, and plays. They’ve won the World Fantasy Award, British Fantasy Award, and Bram Stoker Award.
In this book they go over everything from the mechanics of writing, to how to find the time to write, to dealing with all the paper writers tend to collect. They discuss plot, point of view, setting, characterization, and more, all in an informal tone that invites you to become part of their conversation. Learn how to find your stories because they are Yours to Tell.
Steve Rasnic Tem was born in Lee County Virginia in the heart of Appalachia. He is the author of over 350 published short stories and is a past winner of the Bram Stoker, International Horror Guild, British Fantasy, and World Fantasy Awards. His story collections include City Fishing, The Far Side of the Lake, In Concert (with wife Melanie Tem), Ugly Behavior, Celestial Inventories, and Onion Songs. An audio collection, Invisible, is also available. His novels include Excavation, The Book of Days, Daughters, The Man In The Ceiling (with Melanie Tem), and the recent Deadfall Hotel.
These conversation transcripts between two veteran authors— on topics surrounding creative writing itself as well as the industry as a whole—are pure art. Great advice flows out of these to writers and it’s a joy to behold in book form, and I will revisit these conversations when needed.
I’ve been thinking about the art of conversation because of my podcast.
A good conversation is something built by two or more participants. It can be guided but never dominated. It is revelatory without being didactic. It requires curiosity, bravery, humility and openness to discovery. In fact, it would not be an interesting thing to engage in if the full scope of it was already known. So, the element of the unknown is an essential, inextricable component of a good conversation. It is in that respect a lot like the writing process—which is a bit like someone in dialogue with their own subconscious.
The podcast now has a voice, in that I push the conversations in directions that interest me, and select guests based on who I think is great. Not by anyone else’s criteria. (Your taste, after all, is not independently verified, and it’s one of the most important things you have to offer.) And I reckon if you’re doing this with a strong enough interest in your guest, researching the right person and selecting them from a big enough pool of potential candidates (know who’s out there), you can’t help but produce something original and of value.
A number of guests have since asked me how I record stuff etc because they want to set up their own podcast. Fantastic:
- That they ask me means that they like my work and I make it look easy. - If they learn how to do it their own way, they’ll produce something new and worthwhile that the world needs - They’ll gain a newfound appreciation for the work I do when they discover how easy it isn’t (which is nice for me!) - They will, in their own corner of the universe, ease the suffering of those around them
That last one is so important.
There’s such an emphasis on who has or has not been discovered that we seem to think that nothing they did before that was worth it. And not just worth it only if it eventually leads to discovery, which I think “the myth of the overnight success” narrative implies. It’s true that years and years of hard work are required to launch you onto the main stage in whatever field that stage is—but all the work that went before it isn’t suddenly validated by that launching; it was already worth it with or without the launch.
I really love writing. I even enjoy the process of it. I always seem to forget that I enjoy the process, because the pain of starting doesn’t readily diminish. (Though once you push through it, you see that its dread was a lie.)
When I don’t write, after a while I feel spiritually ill. So it’s something I do and always will do. Because it produces things in the world that never were before. It makes new connections that had never been made before. It makes a new small kind of sense of the world firstly to me and then to however many readers I can get. But that’s all accessory: the work is inherently justified, and most of its own reward.
Not completely its own reward. It should be, but it’s tough when you consider what rewards are available in the world for this work—even though most of these rewards are unlikely to be received by most writers. And that, even once received by a writer, they’ll probably expect to receive whatever it is each and every time, or to have nothing but a slew of good years thereafter. Still, you take away these moments of revelation—which constitute a tiny proportion of any writer’s career—and all there is is the work of a writer, which is inescapably tough no matter someone’s prestige or level of ability.
Plus, the joy of writing and reading and just participating in this whole generally maligned thing—it comes and goes. Which is a shame! I wish it could just go and go and go. Just as I wish all writing days could be good ones and all books as equally pleasurable to read. That’s not the case, even for people who believe they know their taste well enough and stick to a strict writing regimen. I don’t care who you are, you can’t game being a human. You can’t life-hack your way out of life.
What you can do is read this book, though, which will surely inspire you to write and inevitably fill you with new tips you can try out. It’s never prescriptive nor exclusionary. And these writers, with all their experience, openly acknowledge where words, advice and understanding fails even them—which is refreshing.
I also now know better where I went right as much as wrong. The process of submitting stories goes better the more you do it not just because you fix your mistakes but because you learn what you were already doing correctly. I’ve come close to the big time a few times in ways I wasn’t easily able to replicate in future submissions because I poorly understood what I’d done right as much as what I’d done wrong. (Or if failure was a result of anything I’d done at all!) But the pain is in the confusion more than in the failure—and in that respect, this book’s illumination made the idea of writing and submitting less painful.
Even if the suggestions made wouldn’t work for you, there are still meta-tips as to how to go about finding what method does work for you. So I find it hard to believe this book wouldn’t be useful to just about any writer.
Surely readers are curious as to how the whole thing works. The cool thing about writing is that, unlike a magician revealing their tricks, watching a writer try to reveal theirs instead reveals how amazingly unknowable the best literature is. And that’s a very interesting thing to behold indeed.
It’s humbling too, to consider the years of effort and turmoil and strife that goes into these silent, tiny paper things that may or may not be appreciated. And the reams of people who want to hold their own tiny paper things in their hand and, for a multitude of reasons in and out of their control, maybe never will—but go ahead with their work anyway.
Really the most inspiring thing is to read the conversation of two people who’ve been doing this for so long and still talk about it with reverence, still approach it with curiosity, and are always wondering about the next story. Because what I struggle most with when it comes to writing is:
- Is there a point in me or anyone still doing it? - Why don’t I know how it works yet? - Is there anything I’m doing that is holding me back from improving, hampering my opportunities to get published and/or making what I write a complete waste of a reader’s time?
Reading this book, I’m not sure that the authors themselves would be any firmer in their convictions regarding these issues. They were called to write and they answered.
Years ago, I was called too. Unfortunately. It is a huge imposition on my schedule that could easily be filled with more objectively productive tasks and skill accrual. I know that isn’t the point. I don’t know why that isn’t the point. But then I think, “Great! If these authors don’t know, I don’t need to know either. I just need to get back to work.”
Another in the string of books I've read by writers on writing. Melanie Tem and Steve Rasnic Tem are not actually authors I've read, though they have long careers and backlists. They are a married couple who both write horror and science fiction (primarily).
This book, expanded from its original form, is written in the form of an email dialog between them. They go back and forth on their process and various aspects of writing; it's a little like listening in on two writers speaking at a convention panel. They both write engagingly and in a lot of detail about their careers, their influences, and of course there are chapters hitting all the usual topics like Character, Plot, Setting, Genre, Subtext, Point of View, Structure, etc.
Having read many of these books (Stephen King's On Writing remains one of my favorites), there isn't a lot of unexplored space in the genre of "writers writing about how they write," in my opinion. I didn't find anything particularly to disagree with, and in fact, Steve Tem's process sounds in many ways similar to mine. I liked their commentary, but I can't say I learned anything new. Towards the end of the book, they talk a little bit about marketing and PR and the writing life (apparently in their experience, many writers become hoarders) and epublishing, but admit themselves that much of their advice will already be outdated.
This is the sort of book to read if you like reading authors' notes, or if you are interested in these two authors in particular. It was worth reading but it's not likely to give an aspiring writer any novel insights or much in the way of actionable advice that isn't found repeated in many other such books.
As the title says, the book is built in the form of a dialogue between the two authors, and it has a very relaxed, informal tone. It is probably not the best choice as a first handbook for the totally uninitiated, but if you've tried your hand at writing, you'll find a lot of interesting insights in this one. While all the classic topics one finds in various writing primers are here, the approach is much more personal, and the book feels like you're sitting somewhere, having a drink with your writer friends, and they start talking shop - as writers will often do. The wide range of topics is handled with class and the authors manage to have a very sophisticated approach while keeping the text fresh, accessible and fun. I really feel like recommending this one.
Note: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.
The format of this book is a little strange. It’s written as an obviously structured, edited conversation between two people. The content is quite compelling, but I do find myself wondering if it would have landed a little better if recorded as a podcast or presentation. The information given does cover a lot of ground, so this book is good for new writers, and people with a few stories under their belt. With that said, it still feels like they’ve tried to keep a conversational tone, but with large paragraphs of discussion that have clearly been very shaped into an extended dot-point list of what they wanted to cover. I think it hits that unfortunate line that the advice is so reasonable that people looking for a dot point action list are going to be turned off. But if you're someone constantly looking to add to a global conversation about writing and how to approach it, it’s definitely an interesting resource, but because the information has been formed more by what the authors wanted to talk about rather than organic questions that a writer might have, it feels a little thin in some places.
This is going to make me sound like a bit of a hippy, and I promise you that I’m not, but this is a hot button issue that it’s worth making a comment on. The downside of a discussion between two people who obviously spend a lot of time together is that they can form an echo chamber. The brief discussion on sharing the myths of a local indigenous people, and how they feel they should be able to tell whatever stories they want, grated a little, as in Australia great care is taken with Aboriginal myths to ensure that only the people those stories belong to tell them. I didn’t feel that outright disrespect for the wishes of a people seemed like a good thing to be preaching (and I’m surprised their editor let that through!). The same lack of external perspective kind of carries through the book, and while that’s the point of two people close to each other writing a book, I think that it speaks with an air of authority that is closing doors rather than opening them.
The writing varies from very accessible to sometimes a little theory-heavy, often quite quickly. If you’re familiar with the subject matter, it turns an otherwise light read into something relatively dense, but if you’re not familiar, it’s just going to read like jargon. I think a decision about the experience level of the expected reader would have benefited this book, as it drags for writers with experience in some places, but would completely lose new writers in other places.
With all that said, the sections about all of the writing-adjacent things, like managing work/life balance and marketing is actually very solid. These are two people who have helped each other to find their writing niche and style, and been together a long time doing so. They talk about what has worked for them, or what hasn’t worked for them, and I think it’s a good look into something that’s very individual, especially when you see how two people who have raised a family together work so differently.
If you want to read more about writing but you’re looking for a general refresher or overview rather than anything in particular, I think this book is pretty interesting. I do think it would have been better presented as a less-scripted podcast rather than a clearly edited book, but the information and suggestions are helpful, even if they’re just a slice of the overall available writing pie. I don’t know that I could recommend the entire book to someone, but there are certainly some sections with food for thought, and if I was more familiar with their bodies of work, some of the examples might have meant a little more to me, but it was a worthwhile read.
Before I launch my two cents, I’d like to disclose I received “Yours To Tell” after I signed up for Apex’s Minion Read and Review group. In this group, you choose a free book with the understanding you will write a review on that book. Sweet!
A more appropriate title for this book would be “Mine to Tell.” Authors Steve and Melanie Tem give their opinions on the craft of writing. When the authors stick to addressing those delectable elements like structure and plot, the chapters are gold. When the writers detour from the elements and travel through the landscape of “My Life as a Writer,” then the reader may ask “Do I care if they gave away books at their holiday parties?” The chapters “Buried in Paper” and “The Writing Life” may not be page turners, but if you’re under the impression a writer’s life is full of skyrockets, then these chapters bring you back to planet Mundane.
Let’s start with the nuggets a.k.a my favorite parts of the book. The chapter “Beginnings, Middles, and Endings” provides ideas for beginning and ending a story. Also, the chapter describes the roles that beginning and endings play. When the audience complains, “This tales moves too damn slowly,” then the chapter “Setting” and a highlighter may provide the remedy. The Chapter “Subtext” is worthy of reflection for those who enjoy embedding innuendos/ double meanings in their work.
If I don’t include my least favorite part of “Yours To Tell,” then my review reads like a bunch of cockadoodle doo. My least favorite part has to do with my PERSONAL PREJUDICES. On page 155, Tem writes. “I tried to write from deep inside his head and heart in an attempt to understand someone I, tragically, knew.” This statement was written in reference to the viewpoint a primary characters who happened to be a pedophile, according to the author. The point jarred me because I dislike anything remotely connected to pedophilia. Too Much Information!!!
“Yours To Tell” is built from audio transcripts, notes, essays, and other material, according to the authors. That explains why, when scrolling through the book, I initially thought ‘This is like reading a book of transcripts.’ Despite the format – perhaps because the authors share their reasons for writing about certain topics – “Yours To Tell” possesses a mood of intimacy.