Our Diary

Our second FREE workshop of the year will be held on May 20th at 4pm Pacific. The topic for this Spring will be one near and dear to our hearts: The Book Architecture Method. 

Maybe you haven’t heard of The Book Architecture Method, our proprietary process for structure and revision. Maybe you have one of Stuart’s books and would like a refresher course plus the opportunity to ask questions. 

Designed over a decade ago, first in Blueprint Your Bestseller and then elaborated on in Book Architecture (our self-titled second album), “The Method” has more than stood the test of time. In fact, it continues to draw new devotees every week, if our DMs are any testament. 

So what is all the fuss about? The Book Architecture Method divides a work’s structural properties into three main components:

• Your THEME, which can ideally be stated in one sentence, and then elaborated in four sentences, otherwise known as your “elevator pitch.” It is an axiom of ours that your book can only one have one theme, which is how it lends unity to the entire work. Unity being the fundamental aesthetic criterion, according to fancy sources like the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics — and which we happen to agree with.
• Your SERIES, the repetition and variation of a narrative element — such as a character, relationship, object, or scenic locale — in such a way that the repetition and variation creates meaning. You might be used to calling these throughlines or narrative arcs; we call them series, and postulate that 8-12 of them that span the length of your work. When they interact and intersect, via grids and graphs which we will explore, they provide the road map to your book and create complex and powerful emotional effects.
• Your SCENES, the ultimate building block of your narrative. If there is one theme, and a dozen series, there might be 99 scenes (or 78 or 56…you get the idea). A scene is where something happens, and because something happens, something changes; a scene is where your powers of description and dramatic presentation come to the fore bringing the work to life for your reader through tension and sensuality. These scenes in turn are organized by your series, in the service of your one central theme.

You do not need to be working on a work of fiction to benefit from this hour-and-a-half workshop; it applies as well to creative non-fiction or prescriptive non-fiction. Neither does your current endeavor need to be book-length; The Method works just as well on shorter pieces.

So, what are you waiting for? Email us at stuart@bookarchitecture.com and let us know that you’d like the link.

And whatever you do, please don’t trust AI to structure your work in some reductive and unimaginative way. Come get your hands dirty because by doing so you will get new ideas — for both your form and your content — that you simply can’t outsource.

At Book Architecture, we are wont to say that if it has to do with the written word, we’re interested. And it’s true! We could not possibly generate a static list of the services we provide to meet our clients’ rich and varied needs.

That said, there are certainly staples of the assistance we provide and this year, we’re going to spotlight several of those services starting with, fittingly, Phase One. Just to make sure we’re all on the same page regarding what it is we actually do here at Book Architecture. 

A Phase One is the first phase of development editing, a term which refers to the content editing of a manuscript an author brings to us that is already in progress. 

When a client approaches us for developmental editing, they may have other ideas for how we can work together but this, in my opinion, is the place to start. Whether they have 30,000 words or 180,000 words, provided they have reached a convenient stopping point (and if they have reached out to us, chances are they have) we begin with what they have already produced. 

What we call a Phase One is sometimes known as the editorial letter: a written critique on topics ranging from the sweeping to the detailed, which is discussed in a follow-up conference both to clarify the points contained in the critique and to brainstorm solutions to agreed-upon challenges.

This process accomplishes two objectives. It first and foremost delivers great value in and of itself. The critique generated has a macro section in which we detail larger considerations such as audience, genre, tone, opportunities, and potentially missing material if such exists, as well as possible structural revisions, and a micro section which tethers those topics to specific page numbers and presents observations that are too small for their own category but seem important to confide nonetheless.

Secondly, clients can use this experience as a chemistry check to determine if they want the editing relationship to move forward. Editing is largely a matter of fit. It is usually not a matter of anyone’s integrity whether there is a profitable exchange of ideas, but more whether the client can hear you when you talk, whether they agree with your ideas—or, just as good—whether in rejecting your ideas they come up with their own.

A cooling-off period between receipt of the critique and the follow-up conference (and certainly before any rewriting) allows clients space to go through a set of reactions akin to the five stages of grief: defensiveness, disdain, confusion, hopelessness, and then the light of acceptance may crack the horizon. That’s the time to talk.

A break can also benefit us, the editor; our subconscious will continue to wrestle with how to solve vexing problems.

At the outset of the follow-up conference I think it is useful to hear from authors generally about how they processed the critique and where they are now in thinking about their work in progress. Even though it may sound nice, I don’t want to hear them say, “I agree with everything you said.” The point is neither to agree nor disagree, it is to listen to what sticks with us, what resonates with that yucky yet somehow uplifting quality of an issue that we will feel better having fixed.

I then recommend we use the macro section as an outline for our discussion—tangents will happen, and tangents should be encouraged—but this way we can always have a place to come back to when we need to start our conversation over again. I tell them not to worry, that no matter what structure we choose, everything will come out eventually. When we get to each macro category, I likewise usually invite them to go first, otherwise (standard line) “I will just end up saying the same thing over again, whereas if you go first, I can build off of what you are saying.” That is the point of a follow-up conference, you will recall: “to clarify points contained in the critique and to brainstorm solutions to agreed-upon problems.”

Regarding clarifying points contained in the micro section, it is up to the client how they want to use their time. In my opinion (and I will frequently voice this), the best approach to a discussion of this material is to go specifically to the page numbers where my observations need some context or extension. As in, we don’t have to discuss all of them. Some authors will confide that they have not yet dug in to all of the individual entries in the micro section and I will give them the option of reserving some time to discuss these points at a later date.

Whether this conference happens in person or over Zoom, the session is recorded and provided to the client for future reference.

Last year’s free workshop, Writing The Things You Think You Cannot Say, brought together a powerful cohort of our community to exchange best practices on the art of memoir writing. Well, we think if something works — you stick with it! So this year we are offering (4) additional free workshops. The first, on working with beta readers, will be held later this month.

Perhaps the most important question when working with beta readers, those early readers who see your work before it is ready for the literary marketplace, is: how can we productively apply structure to the process? Because without intentional guidance the feedback you receive will likely sound something like: “I loved it!” Or, “I guess I’m just not your audience,” code for I hated it. Or, “There’s a typo on page 17.” And we’re looking for something with a lot more heft than that.

We want to make sure you don’t waste your beta readers’ time (and they don’t waste yours). The goal then is to present tactical strategies for getting the most out of critiques offered by professionals and non-professionals alike.

To that end we will discuss: