Sarah Sundin, @sarahsundin
In a few short weeks, my house will go on the market. As part of the process, our real estate agent sent over a stager to tell us what needs to go, what should be changed, and what can stay. And now we’re working down the stager’s to-do list. The process has been…enlightening. Of course, as a writer, I see lessons for the writing life.
Who’s Your Audience?
I knew the clutter in my house had to go, but imagine my shock when she put the bookcases in the category of clutter. Why not tell me to ditch the refrigerator? Because books and food are necessities of life, am I right?
“Don’t people like books?” I might have had a whine in my voice.
That wasn’t it, the stager assured me. But the prospective homeowner doesn’t want to see my stuff—they want to see a blank room to fill with their stuff. A few attractive pieces of furniture to make the room look lived in and to show proportion. Nix everything else.
Ah, sounds like that primary rule of writing—“Know Your Audience.” Just because we as writers love something doesn’t mean our readers will love it. We have to know our readers—their tastes, their interests, and their reading level. And we write for those readers.
Out with the Old
Nothing like putting your house on the market to make you see that your taste in interior design hasn’t kept up with the times. The stager tried really hard not to wrinkle her nose at our 1990s light fixtures. She often failed. Those fixtures have now been replaced.
As writers, we can fall into ruts or overly comfortable patterns. Always have a gutsy, sassy heroine and a brooding, troubled hero? Always have a natural disaster at the story midpoint? Always use the “enemies to lovers” trope? Maybe it’s time to switch up those fixtures.
Stand Your Ground
As part of her campaign against ’90s light fixtures, our stager wanted us to buy new ceiling fans. We have six of them throughout the house. My husband and I balked at that expense, especially in a seller’s market. Besides, who notices ceiling fans? Our real estate agent agreed with us. The fans stay. And if the buyers want new fans, they’re welcome to change them.
As writers, we have to weigh the advice we receive from critique partners, social media experts, and sometimes even our own editors. Does it work for your story and for your writing life? Your writing buddy loves TikTok and says you must be there if you want to be published. But it doesn’t fit your personality or your reading audience, and the thought of yet another social media platform gives you hives. It’s okay to give it a pass.
What Do I Really Need?
As much as I dislike the bland, minimalist look (only one bookshelf?), all this stuff has to be packed at some point anyway. So we’re packing it. Packing all the twenty-three-years-in-the-house-and-our-adult-kids-don’t-have-room-for-their-own-stuff stuff. Throwing stuff away. Giving it away. Stashing it in a mobile storage unit.
Each piece tossed, given away, or packed requires a decision. Do I need this piece? Do I love it? Can I live without it for a few months? As the time gets closer, the packing intensifies. The decisions get tighter.
Kind of like editing. Does this scene need to be here? This character? This paragraph? Sentence? Word? Should I toss it? Save it for another novel? Place it in a “deleted scenes” file, maybe to use for bonus material?
With each round of edits, we pare away excess words. Kill clichés. Replace rocks with gems. Simplify and clarify. Rearrange sentences so they sing.
My house will never reach spartan simplicity—because books—but we’ll “stage” it to a point that will please us, our real estate agent, and the buyers.
Likewise, with a little work, we can “stage” our writing life to please us, publishing professionals, and our readers.
Now, I need to tackle my daughter’s closet. Please pray for me.
When the Nazis march toward Paris, American ballerina Lucie Girard buys her favorite English-language bookstore to allow the Jewish owners to escape. The Germans make it difficult for her to keep Green Leaf Books afloat. And she must keep the store open if she is to continue aiding the resistance by passing secret messages between the pages of her books.
Widower Paul Aubrey wants nothing more than to return to the States with his little girl, but the US Army convinces him to keep his factory running and obtain military information from his German customers. As the war rages on, Paul offers his own resistance by sabotaging his product and hiding British airmen in his factory. But in order to carry out his mission, he must appear to support the occupation—which does not win him any sympathy when he meets Lucie in the bookstore.
In a world turned upside down, will love or duty prevail?
Sarah Sundin is an ECPA- and CBA-bestselling author of World War II novels, including Until Leaves Fall in Paris. Her novels When Twilight Breaks and The Land Beneath Us were Christy Award finalists, The Sky Above Us won the 2020 Carol Award, and When Tides Turn and Through Waters Deep were named to Booklist’s “101 Best Romance Novels of the Last 10 Years.” A mother of three adult children, Sarah lives in California and enjoys speaking for church, community, and writers’ groups. She serves as Co-Director for the West Coast Christian Writers Conference. You can find her at http://www.sarahsundin.com
Comments 2
What an outstanding and entertaining post! Thank you, Sarah. Having experienced a couple of moves, I can totally relate. That you showed an analogy between moving and writing was brilliant.
Thank you, MaryAnn! We’ve got to take inspiration wherever we can 🙂