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DISCLAIMER: I am no lawyer. And I am not an agent. So I am not one to give legal advice. This counts more as common sense so keep that in mind. I want to say this about contracts, and it’s learned from experience:

No deal is always better than a bad deal.

Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time negotiating contracts, and it’s got me thinking back ten years to when I first started out as a writer. For the first two or three years especially, it seemed like I was never going to get a sale, let alone a pro sale. And that made me feel like my legitimacy as a writer was very much in question. So one day, when a deal came along that paid pro rates and offered me that opportunity, I faced a real delimma. See, they were paying me ten cents per word. And that was at a time when 6 cents per word was the pro standard, so this was great pay. But in exchange they wanted my copyright and along with it the right to rewrite me however they chose without my involvement if they decided to do so.

Man, I really liked everything about that project. I really wanted to be a part of it. Until I heard the deal points. It’s evidence of my desperation that I spent a few days actually weighing it before turning them down. Now a days, it would be a nonstarter, and, in fact, a sign that I should never do business with those people again. That’s outrageous. Writers are not slaves. Our intellectual property is our most valuable commodity, and if our name goes on it, you shouldn’t change a word we don’t agree to. It doesn’t matter how much you pay us—that’s nonegotiable. But as it was, I really wanted to be seen as a pro with a sale to prove it, so I did spend a few days considering what to do before I made the decision to decline. And just to prove what shitty people they were, the editor told me how I’d regret my decision and what a fool I was being—clear signs, I now know, of sharks and jerks I should never go near. But at the time, I had a lot to learn, so I wondered for a period if I should have taken the deal.

Seven years or so later, I have zero regrets about that decision. In fact, I have found myself in the position on occasion as anthologist defending my writers against that very type of rights grab. To me, it’s a nonstarter. And it should be for you and any creative. Unless the work is an exiting IP work for hire situation, you should never be asked to relinquish control of it by anyone. Now, if you are unreasonable about reasonable edits and copy edits and style changes, then they have every right not to publish you. And you should expect as much. So don’t be a dick. Be reasonable. But that’s not the same as rewriting someone’s work without them. I would never want my name on work that was not entirely my own, would you? In work for hire, you might not have a choice but with your own original work, you always should and do.

So, again, I advise you to remember this one thing when it comes to selling your work or negotiating any contract:

no deal is always better than a bad deal.

Of course, I also advise you to seek advice of knowledgeable people so you know what is reasonable and what to expect. After all, some deal points are standard, and you may not understand or like all of them, but that’s part of the business and there are reasons for them. Publishers are in the business to make money, and the goal of each side in any contract negotiation is to negotiate terms most favorable to them. There’s always some give and take involved. But when you know industry standard terms, you can tell when you are being treated fairly and reasonably within bounds and when people step over the line, and to me, that is the difference between a bad deal and a good one. The thing is that the industry standard terms have been negotiated or hard fought by writers organizations, writers, agents, and publishers over a number of years and represent the most reasonable compromise between both groups’ expectations. You are never going to get a deal with a publisher that is not at least somewhat more favorable toward the publisher because they are the ones putting out the money and assuming the financial risk, and they also have more overhead than you do on a number of levels. But over time, writers and their representatives have worked hard to work out terms everyone can live with in regards to not only royalties but exclusivity clauses, options, reversion rights, and so on. So familiarizing yourself with what the standards are can ease your mind and reassure you that you are making the best deal possible, all things considered. (Hint: The boiler plate almost never reflects these standards, so never take the first thing offered. Always expect to negotiate a bit. The exception may be contracts with magazines and such, but most of the time, negotiation is expected.)

In the end, a bad deal is very hard to live with. It will haunt you and come back to make you hurt over it and regret it many times over. Whereas the deal you thought you regretted passing up, will disappear with time. That deal I mentioned that could have been my first pro sale? This is the first time I’ve thought of it in several years. Why? Because I long ago moved past it and had successes and learned what is and isn’t fair and reasonable, and that gave me perspective that I had done the right thing. But bad deals cannot be undone, or at least, they are very hard to undo—and very expensive. So never let yourself be talked into a deal that doesn’t feel comfortable. Because it’s far easier to wonder over and over “what if” than to ask yourself over and over “how could I have been such a fool.”

And that’s why no deal is always better than a bad deal. For what it’s worth.

Today’s WriteTip is a guest post by Desiree Villena from Reedsy.

By Desiree Villena

When every TV show, video game, book, and film these days is competing to out-thrill the public, any author could be forgiven for thinking that “mind-blowing” has lost all previous meaning. But the truth is that writing plot twists well is a careful craft — not a simple escalation of arbitrary shocks.

To get it right, you need to come up with the plot twist in the first place, work it into the plot, cover up your trail appropriately, and then make sure that the sumtotal delivers as you intended. Here are 5 key tips for writing plot twists that actually work.

1. Eliminate the obvious.

All plot twists may be equal in a vacuum, but in actuality, some are more satisfying than others. A good plot twist is one that both surprises the audience and is narratively sound. You want to blow your readers’ minds away, not blow their minds up. Your twist shouldn’t arrive completely out of the blue — but your readers also can’t see it coming from the very first page. Try to strike exactly the right balance for a twist that makes readers enjoy the new angle that it provides.

How can you come up with such a plot twist in the first place? First, get the ‘surprise’ element right. Eliminate the obvious. Don’t underestimate your readers, no matter your genre: they’re smart, and they’ve seen it all already. Some plot twist tropes are more popular than others. Peruse them all to understand what the classic books and films did to make them exciting and original in their eras, and then add your fresh take to it.

2. Make it matter.

To the point of “narratively sound,” a plot twist can make a reader sit up and go, “Wait, what just happened?” It should not then make a reader wonder, “Why did that just happen?” A good twist won’t contradict the established story: instead, it should develop the story’s central premise, moving it in a new direction that absolutely makes sense for the characters. You can tell a poor plot twist from a good one when it’s obviously more interested in shocking readers than in furthering the story.

Spend some time asking yourself if your plot twist actually possesses a purpose and will offer payoff to the reader. If you find that you’re writing a plot twist solely for shock value, you’re probably doing it wrong. To see bad plot twists in action, just watch seasons six, seven, and eight of Game of Thrones and then observe all of the irate reaction posts that they birthed.

3. Clue the reader in.

There are two types of plot twists: those that come out of nowhere, and those that are built up through clues that are carefully positioned throughout the story. In A Song of Ice and Fire, the death of (spoiler alert!) Ned Stark exemplifies the former. On the other end of the spectrum is the second — the kind that tends to induce that famous “Oh, so that’s why all of those things happened!” revelation.

If you’re going for this second type of plot twist (hint: you should be), then you’ll need to get the game of Clue down pat. Work interesting clues into your story that will build up to your plot twist, but don’t be too obvious or draw unnecessary attention to them. Think about it as a breadcrumb trail: readers can successfully follow your path, but only if they’re paying close attention to the tiny crumbs on the floor. The Sixth Sense is a classic example of this; the reveal at the end might shock you, but upon re-watch, all of the clues are there for you to trace.

4. Avoid outright lying.

How exactly can you go about this subtly? Don’t forget the other foolproof trick up any twisty author’s sleeve: misdirection.

The Harry Potter series, for instance, is a minefield of misdirection: Harry thought in Sorcerer’s Stone that Professor Snape was the one working with Lord Voldemort, when in fact it was Professor Quirrell. He believed that the villain in Prisoner of Azkaban was Sirius Black. Spoiler alert: it was actually Peter Pettigrew. Your misdirection, too, can easily go so far as your POV character’s understanding of the events, and any red herrings that you plant can distract readers from the truth. But never forget the golden rule of plot twists: never outright lie to your reader.

Neither should you overdo it. Some writers get so carried away with their own “brilliance” in creating red herrings that there’s ultimately more evidence in the story for the red herrings than for the truth. This is a red flag to any reader — indeed, your manuscript might not even then make it past a discerning literary agent if this is your strategy.

To that end, take a step back at the end of your draft to make sure that your story remains sturdy under inspection. Is it crystal clear what the truth is upon re-read? Did you balance the red herrings and the real clues? Do your details give away too much? Or not enough?

5. Test it on beta readers.

Film studios will conduct screenings months prior to a movie’s official release to test the audience’s reaction to said movie. Negative feedback can send the film back to the set for re-shoots, and even change the script substantially. (Can you say “panicked third act rewrites”?) But the primary goal of such trial runs is to ensure that the finished product doesn’t get any damning reviews on the day of its release, and so you should also share your manuscript with trusted beta readers to make sure that your story delivers as you imagined (after you self-edit your manuscript, of course).

Prepare a tally of questions for your beta readers to answer. Were your plot twists unexpected? Did any of them become plot holes? Did your readers feel cheated at all throughout the course of the story, or was the reveal (and the payoff) satisfying? When they answer to your satisfaction, you can be confident about (no plot twist in sight here) your book release in the future.

Desiree Villena is a writer with Reedsy, a marketplace that connects self-publishing authors with the world’s best editors, designers, and marketers. In her spare time, Desiree enjoys reading contemporary fiction and writing short stories. Naturally, she’s a big fan of plot twists (when they’re done right).