An Open Letter to Steven Moffat

WARNING!!! This post contains spoilers for "The Snowmen," as well as previous episodes of Doctor Who. I don't care if River Song would disapprove.

Dear Mr. Moffat,

I say this with all the respect in the world, but still, it must be said: you're doing it wrong.

Now, I know that you are a many times BAFTA winning television person, and I am just a writer who hasn't yet finished her undergrad degree, but the point still stands. The last season and a half, at least, of Doctor Who has derailed a bit. And it makes my nerdy heart incredibly sad.

I was introduced to Doctor Who while I was in high school. And I loved it. I loved how zany it was. I fell in love with the Tenth Doctor a little bit (okay fine maybe a lot). I loved that it could be both funny and sad in the same episode. And I loved that it was thoughtful. Yeah, it was silly, and in the Russel T. Davies era I despaired wildly of the overly dramatic series finales, but there were so many episodes with something more at the heart of them. The idea that humanity is imperfect and yet wonderful, that no one is unimportant, really struck me. The episodes were cohesive, they were imaginative, and I loved them.

And then something happened. I was initially super psyched that you were taking over as the head writer for the show. Your one-off episodes in the Eccleston and Tennant eras remain some of my favorites - the "Empty Child/Doctor Dances" episodes are sheer brilliance, and "The Girl in the Fireplace" is probably part of the reason I am now obsessed with French history. But for the past season and a half or so, so many of the episodes have lacked that spark of something more. After watching - well, all right, sitting on the sofa - not behind it - and shouting at the television while it played - "The Snowmen," I asked my friend Sarah (side note: her name is Sarah Jane. She was named after Sarah Jane Smith. Seriously) what she thought of the episode. She said that it was "cute" and that she had learned not to expect anything more out of Doctor Who any more.

Yeah.

I don't know what exactly happened - and as a writer myself, I know just how hard it is to turn out quality things time and time again when the pressure's on (and pleasing a fandom must be some pressure). But it seems to me that the problem is that everything has gotten BIGGER in the last few seasons. That same ridiculous over-dramatic quality that I'd come to hate in the RTD series finales? It's seeped into the whole of the series, with the arcs hammered home repeatedly, sometimes for more than one series (The Silence, anyone? Why was it necessary to spread that arc out so long?). I think another thing that happened was that American television discovered this British phenomenon - after all, the characters have visited America what, four times in two seasons now? I get the sense that the show is now pandering to the American audience. Well, this American does not like being pandered to, thanks very much. Isn't the point of liking a British show is that it's, well, British? We don't want it to be like American television. We want it to be cleverer than that.

The other thing that has derailed is a sense of continuity. You, Mr. Moffat, enjoy making the rules and then changing them. Sometimes within the same episode. And it is infuriating.

The thing about writing science fiction and fantasy is that, essentially, there are no rules. That's the fun part. You don't have to stay within the established bounds of reality. You can do WHATEVER YOU WANT and it's fine. That's the point! You create the world.

Except it's not exactly that simple. Yes, you can do whatever you want. Yes, you create the world. But in creating that world, you also create the RULES of that world. And the one and only rule of writing science fiction and fantasy is this: create the laws of your world, and then abide by them. Otherwise the entire premise falls apart.

For example, I have a novel that puts werewolves in Revolutionary Paris. Obviously this did not really happen, but in my version of events, it did. That's cool. I can do that - that's the point of fantasy, to do things that aren't real. If, however, I suddenly added in a random dragon on page 200 of my book, without setting up any precedent for this dragon's existence, that would make absolutely no sense and would destroy the credibility of the rest of my book. If one random thing like that could happen, well, why can't there be unicorns and people who can fly too? If that random dragon appears just to ravage a town, why can't an equally random sorcerer magic the dragon away?

It turns into a ridiculous, weird mess.

I understand that Doctor Who is a little bit different - you're dealing with an entire universe, where there very well may be random dragons on different planets. Okay. I'll buy the idea that there's psychic snow if you want me to. But it's the other stuff that doesn't follow.

For example: when can you and can't you take the TARDIS across its own timeline? If the idea is that you can't move the TARDIS once you are part of events, then why is it that the TARDIS keeps crossing its timeline? If, in "The Angels Take Manhattan," Amy wants to take the TARDIS back at the end to rescue Rory (again) why can't she? They have already, within that episode, taken it somewhere the time stream didn't really want it to go, and everything was fine! It didn't explode. Besides, the paradox they set up wiped out everything that had just happened. If it never happened, why would going back in time again be crossing that timeline?

And in "The Snowmen," why did Clara fall to her death? It has been shown before that the Doctor can catch people with the TARDIS (River Song in "Day of the Moon," for example), so why in heaven's name can he not catch Clara? Also, if you establish that it is highly unusual for a character to die multiple times (Rory Williams), that is fine. It irked me a bit that Rory died all the time, but that was kind of what happened to Rory (my favorite part of "The Angels Take Manhattan" was that he acknowledged that he always came back to life, miraculously). To have that miraculous regeneration happen to another character, however, smacks of nothing more than a lack of creativity. I want to like Clara, I really do. I think given a good storyline she could be really interesting. But right now, she just strikes me as more of the same. She's young and cute and in love with the Doctor (see also: Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Amy Pond, any number of one-off companions); she talks a mile a minute and can outwit the Doctor sometimes, and banter right back at him (see also: River Song, Captain Jack Harkness); she can die once per episode and still manage to come back and keep going (see also: Rory Williams, Captain Jack). I was SO EXCITED for Clara to be a person from the 1800s traveling in the TARDIS - that would have been new and different and really cool. But then she died, again, in what seems to me to be nothing more than an overly dramatic and unnecessary push for people on tumblr to make sad gifs and tag them with "MY FEELS," and came back as a young woman from the present day. Sigh.

I love Doctor Who. I love what it can be. I love that it's a chance to explore what humanity is capable of on a landscape that stretches across the stars.

But the most important part of storytelling is, of course, the story. The greatest premise in the world, Mr. Moffat, doesn't make up for a story that's patched together, or that simply doesn't make sense. Fancy sets or locations or special effects don't make up for it either. Continuity matters in order to keep that story held together. Characters who can hold their own and hold our interest matter, because they drive that story.

The story is the most important thing, Mr. Moffat. Everything else falls away.

Best wishes,

Caitlin, a sad and disappointed fan who may have to stick to just the Neil Gaiman episodes for now

Five More Things Not to Do in a Query Letter

Here are a few more basic tips for those of you in the query trenches.

DO NOT:

1. Use long, convoluted sentences. It does not make you sound clever, half the time; instead, it makes you sound like you are TRYING to be clever. If your query is clear enough and interesting enough to intrigue a sleep-deprived intern, you're good to go.

2. Demand a book deal within a set amount of time. The publishing industry moves, in most cases, very slowly. It takes at LEAST a year between book deal and publication date, usually longer. And the submissions process can also be lengthy. Patience, grasshopper.

3. Talk about what a great movie your book will make. Agents are in the books business, not the movie business, and what makes a great movie might not make a great novel. It might make the transition between page and screen really well, but that's not the point at the query stage.

4. Confuse "synopsis" with "query." A query letter is about 250 words and should include a hook (an eye-catching first sentence) as well as information on the characters and most of the plot, without giving away the ending. A synopsis is usually 2-4 pages, explaining most of the scenes in more detail, including the ending. Many agencies do not ask for synopses*, whereas I've never heard of one that does not want a query letter.

5. Open your query with rhetorical questions. Here is agent Sarah La Polla's explanation on why. Essentially, if we actually answered most rhetorical questions used in queries, it would be with much more eye-rolling than you want.


*This might be because synopses are evil.

How Not to Write a Query Letter

I work in a literary agency in Manhattan. And as an intern, a large part of my job is sifting through the slush pile. I actually love reading slush - I mean, I get to read ALL DAY as my JOB and it is kind of the best. There is also the great feeling of finding something really wonderful and hoping that your boss might like it and might offer representation.

But. Guys. So much of the slush pile is made up of people who simply have no idea how to write a query letter. My reaction to the horrible typos and weirdly structured emails and lengthy bios that leave out all semblance of plot is somewhere between mirth and pity.

I know I am probably preaching to the choir here, but even so, I intend to make a bit of a project out of "how to write query letters" (more on that later, when I can work out the logistics of said project). For now, however, I give you:

The Top Five Things Not to Do in a Query

1. Fail to include sample pages. (Seriously, guys. My agency requests the first three chapters and so many people don't send them. If the submission guidelines ask for sample pages, SEND SAMPLE PAGES. The pages, more than the query, will make me want to say yes.)

2.  Tell me more about you than about your book. (I need to know about your characters and your plot and why I should care. I don't, at this stage, need to know about your career or your background, unless you have been previously published. And even that should be short, sweet, and to the point.)

3. Spell things incorrectly and use improper grammar. (This is like walking into a job interview with ketchup on your shirt.)

4. Insult popular titles of the genre you are trying to be published in. (I have gotten more than one query explaining the failings of Harry Potter and saying that their manuscript had none of those failings. It just sounds incredibly arrogant. Also, there is a very high chance that someone who works in YA publishing will be incredibly fond of Harry Potter. Don't alienate a potential agent from the start!)

5. Call your manuscript a "fiction novel."

Editing, Step One: the Waiting Game

Since I will soon begin editing A Bridge to War (which desperately needs a new title - if anyone has any brilliant ideas for a title that sounds equally werewolf-y and French Revolution-y, please throw them at me. I will be exceedingly grateful), I thought I might share some of my haphazard editing process with you, in the hopes that it might be useful to someone other than me.

I am currently in the middle of step one - not doing anything. I am not opening the manuscript. I am trying to think about the manuscript as little as possible (this is always tricky). Ignore the manuscript! Do it!

I'm going to be doing this at least till the end of next week, and while it might seem like a waste of time, I think it's terribly useful. The longer I go without looking at it, the more distance I can get from the manuscript, and that way I can edit more effectively. If I start editing now, there will obviously be some things I know I need to delete or change, but for the most part, I will just think ALL OF THIS IS FABULOUS WHY CHANGE IT EVER?

The distance provided by waiting a few weeks to edit allows me to do what we in the writing department like to term "killing our babies." Those cute or interesting scenes that don't do what they're supposed to? You have to cut them or fix them, no matter how much you like them as is. And letting the manuscript sit for a bit first makes this a little bit easier.

This is also a great time to read. Read a lot. I have Jennifer Donnelly's REVOLUTION next on my to-be-read list, so of course I'm hoping to get a few things from that book to weave into mine (it helps that she provides a source list. The history minor in me was delighted). Reading a lot during the wait-it-out phase of editing also lets me get out of my own head and my own style, soak in some other writers' methods, and then later see what I can apply to my own manuscript.

So that is step one of my editing process: leave it alone, and read a ton.

How do you guys start out your editing?