Stutters

Stutters? Isn’t that what a person with a speech impediment does? Yes, but that’s not what we’re concerned with here. When a writer stutters, it means that she or he has used the same major word twice within the same sentence or paragraph, or has started too many sentences or paragraphs the same way, has given all his or her characters names that start with the same letter, or has repeated the same action too many times.

Unfortunately, there is no easy way to look for stutters except by careful reading of the manuscript. Consider the following paragraph:

She swiveled her chair around and stared out the wall of windows behind her desk to where the distant mountains beckoned. Her office, a designer’s dream in shades of forest green, cream and gold, reflected the calm strength of the mountains. Potted plants softened the corners and soft environmental music played in the background, all carefully selected to create a sense of calm strength.

 

The stutters are “mountains” (found in the first and second sentences) and “calm strength” (found in the second and third sentences). While there is technically nothing wrong with the words, the duplication gives them less impact. Consider the same passage with the stutters changed:

She swiveled her chair around and stared out the wall of windows behind her desk to where the distant mountains beckoned. Her office, a designer’s dream in shades of forest green, cream and gold, reflected the calm strength of the view. Potted plants softened the corners and soft environmental music played in the background, all carefully selected to create a sense of peace.

 

With the stutters removed, the passage is stronger and flows better.

The second type of stutter is beginning multiple sentences or paragraphs the same way, as in:

She strode through the door, her eyes searching the room. She missed him on her first scan, but not the second. She moved through the crowd like a shark slicing its way through a school of fish.

 

Every sentence begins with “she”. It is boring and detracts from what should be an interesting interlude. This could be alleviated a simple reorganization:

She strode through the door, her eyes searching the room. Her first scan missed him, but not her second. Like a shark slicing its way through a school of fish, she moved through the crowd towards him.

 

We’ve used the same words, just in a slightly different way. Okay, so the passage isn’t high literature, but it does read better the second way.

This also applies to multiple paragraphs starting the same way. Take a look at your manuscript. Don’t read entire paragraphs, or even sentences. Look only at the first words of each paragraph. Have you used the same words to start too many of them, especially in a row? Can you change the wording so that there are differences?

Another type of stutter is starting all the characters names with the same letter: James, Judy, Joan, etc. Readers will begin to confuse the characters. Vary the names: James, Mary, Darla. In addition to their names, don’t give multiple characters the same traits. In real life, everyone is different, even identical twins. Whether it’s the way they speak, sit, walk, tilt their heads, etc., make your characters unique individuals.

A final type of stutter is limiting all the action to the same area or having all the action the same. Unless you’re writing a short story, or there is a specific reason why all the action takes place in one area, the setting should occasionally change as should what is happening. We can only read so many “he leapt up the stairs” before we start looking at the character as a jumping bean.

When editing someone’s work, I often come across areas that are written entirely in passive voice. If it is used sparingly and done for effect, there is nothing wrong with this – but that is rarely the case.

What is the difference between passive and active voice? The contrast is so subtle that most people miss it. Take these two sentences, one active and one passive:

Active: John drove the car. (John is the subject of the sentence and the person (thing) performing the action.)

Passive: The car was driven by John. (The subject is the car but the person doing the action is not the focus of the sentence.)

How can you tell if your writing is passive or active? One easy way is to find all the places where you use the words “was” or “were”. No, these aren’t always indicative of passive voice, but they are the most common pointers. Look at each sentence where these words occur. Can the sentence be rewritten in a stronger, more active way? Once you’ve cleaned up as much of the passive voice as you can, it’s time to go on to other problems.

Take the following passive sentences. Can you rewrite to make active?

Four men were seated at a table in the room. Cards were scattered on the table. The room was lit by an oil lamp casting shadows.

 

One suggestion: Four men sat at the table scattered with cards. An oil lamp cast shadows in the dimly lit room.

 

Style concerns not what you write, but how you write it. Do you want to read “an arch of colors formed in the sky due to the refraction and dispersion of the sun’s light by rain or other water droplets in the atmosphere”? I guess if you’re a scientist, you’d like this description, but for most of us who live in the real world, “rainbow” evokes a much clearer picture and in far fewer words.

Style is also known as your “voice.” It is the way you write that is unique to you. When you are writing the first draft, getting the story down is the most important aspect of writing. Now that you have that done, the individual words and the way they are put together becomes the focus of your work.

IT’S ALL IN THE SENSES

Sensual writing does not necessarily mean sexual writing. Your writing should involve all five senses. For instance, if you see the sentence, “They sat in a booth in the restaurant.” You would consider this boring – at least I do. It tells the reader nothing beyond the fact that the characters are in a restaurant. Look at the next paragraph and compare it to the above sentence.

It took her eyes a minute to adjust to the dim lighting inside the restaurant. She shivered in the air-conditioned chill. It had to be thirty degrees colder than the blast furnace heat outside. Once her vision cleared, she took her time to study the interior. Tan burlap outlined in walnut trim covered the upper half of the walls. Where it could be seen, old-fashioned wainscoting covered the lower half. Alcove-like booths lined two of the walls, their sides nearly as high as the low ceiling. The hostess led them past empty tables to the booth farthest from the door. In the background, she heard the wait staff singing and joking as they prepared for the coming noon rush. Mouthwatering aromas emanated from the direction of the kitchen.

You see the difference? I could go on to describe some of the foods or that it’s an ethnic restaurant or other telling description, but we’ve evoked the senses here – tactile in the burlap walls and air conditioned chill; vision in the low lighting and colors; sounds of the wait staff; mouth-watering aromas for taste. All evoke a sensual response.

The details are important in writing, but don’t become so enamored of them that you add too many. I wrote the above passage with a scene in mind where the details of the interior of the restaurant were important. If the setting isn’t important, add a few details for flavor, but don’t overpower the scene with them or your reader will skip over them. Check your writing for the following:

• Sight:
  • Use specific colors when possible. Instead of “red”, try cerise, ruby, maroon, brick, etc.
  • Use types of lighting: muted, harsh, glaring, candle-lit
  • Describe the surrounding conditions: grimy, military-order, immaculate, cluttered
• Sound:
  • Think about background sounds: ringing phone, slamming doors, creaking doors, squeaking floors or stairs, church bells, traffic, train whistles, dogs barking, construction, lawn mowers, etc.
  • Think about sounds in nature: wind in trees (gales, zephyr, etc.), water (roaring falls, burbling streams), birds, trees creaking, etc.
• Smells
  • Odor quality: fetid, putrid, moldy, sweaty, woodsy, clinical, medical, country fresh (Note: I have to laugh when I see this on an air freshener can – have you ever been in the country when the farmer’s are spreading fertilizer? Or when a skunk has let loose? “Fresh” is not the term that comes to mind.)
  •  Aromas: baking bread, vinegar, ammonia, cinnamon, cigars, frying onions, cooked cabbage, fish, mildew
  • Taste: something can be sweet, sour, bitter, rancid, tart, zesty, tangy, briny, spicy, bland, etc.
  • Touch: soft, harsh, delicate, burning, heavy, numb, dry, oily, clammy, velvety, silky, rough, cool, glassy, etc.
  • Character aspects – don’t forget these when describing something:
    • Size: hulking (instead of big), shrimpy, petite
    • Visual: tattoos, beard/mustache, odd clothing (Goth, piercings, militaristic, filmy, slutty), the way they stand (slouch, ramrod straight), walk (amble, stride, shuffle), hair style (bun, Mohawk, spiked, long)
    • Speech: barely audible, booming, babyish, cultured, clipped, drawled
    • Habits: lazy, messy, prompt, reliable, fastidious
    • Attitudes: selfish, honest, confident, irritable, arrogant, modest, sincere, snobbish
    • Background: work ethics, diligent, religious, studious, shy, boring, ethical

 

Read your dialogue out loud. Does it sound like real people are talking? Or is it stilted and long winded? You should strive to keep dialogue real, but don’t copy real speech. If you listen to real people talking, you’ll find that most conversations are full of inanities. The point of dialogue in a story is to further the story, not give the reader a shopping list of mundane activities. Consider the following:

“Hi, Jayne.”

“Hi yourself, Rose. Nice party.”

“Not bad. Is that a new dress?”

“Yes. I just picked it up today.”

“The color is good on you.”

“Thanks. How ‘bout this weather lately.”

Can you say boring? In addition to talking endlessly about trivialities, real people very rarely use proper grammar. They have accents and use words that are unique to their geographical area. This is called idiomatic speech, dialect or patois. If you want to give your character a unique way of speaking – and you should – you can use this kind of dialogue, but use it sparingly. It breaks a reader’s concentration if he or she has to stop to figure out what the character is saying. Put in a few phrases or a common word or two, or have another character comment on the unusual accent or speech. Note, though, if everyone speaks the same way, then there is no accent – at least to them.

When giving your character a way of talking, be certain it is appropriate for their station, education, and background. You can’t have an uneducated mule driver speaking grammatically correct English unless you give an awfully good explanation as to why he is. And don’t have a lord of the realm speaking like a stable hand without an acceptable reason. The dialogue and speech rhythms have to match the character you are portraying.

When writing dialogue tags (the words that come after the quotes), you should use the words “said” or “asked” most of the time. Use another word only when the meaning of the dialogue isn’t clear:

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t,” she pleaded.

“Don’t,” she ordered.

“Don’t!” she screamed.

In each case, the meaning of the sentence changes significantly with the tag. In these cases, the alternate word is necessary to show the emotion. It should be accompanied by actions that further indicate what is happening in the scene.

Note: don’t use “hiss” unless the dialogue ends in a sibilant: “Yes,” she hissed.

Note: In tags, for American writing, put the noun/pronoun first and the verb second: she said. Some writers use “said she” but it is not common in American usage.

When possible, you should try to eliminate tags. They are necessary only to clarify who is speaking when multiple characters are present. You should also avoid directly addressing someone unless it’s needed for clarity. We don’t talk with our friends by starting each sentence with their names and neither should your characters:

“John, do you want to go out?”

“No, Mary, I don’t.”

“But John, I’m restless.”

“That’s too bad, Mary.”

As in the first speech example, this gets old fast. Give your characters a sense of identity through their speech and keep it real. Use contractions. Real people do and so should your characters. If there is a reason why they don’t, let the reader know why. And most people move around when they speak. Have your characters do something besides just talk.

You shouldn’t use dialogue to give the reader background information. This is called information dumping. Slip the background in other ways. Dialogue should work with actions to show emotions, not become a litany of facts – unless your character is a long-winded pompous professor who likes the sound of his own voice. And if he is, have another character interrupt him on occasion or you’ll risk losing your reader.

Internal dialogue is what the character is thinking. This type of dialogue should not be enclosed in quotes. When formatting, you may underline it to indicate italics, if the passage is short. It is not always necessary to use the “he thought” or “she wondered” with these passages. Often it is easier to change tense. If you’ve been writing in third person point of view, change the passage to first person:

He couldn’t get the door open, no matter how much he tried. How in the world am I going to get in? He kicked at the lock.

In this passage, the second sentence is obviously in his mind. No other indicators are necessary beyond the change from “he” to “I”. It can also be delineated by using italics.

Punctuation of dialogue is probably the single most common area of errors that writers make. Most of this was covered in the section on punctuation, but I’d like to emphasize some specific dialogue points here:

Weak: “Do you have to be so stubborn?” Susan asked, frowning at him.

Better: “Do you have to be so stubborn?” Susan frowned at him. (The “asked” is unnecessary as the question mark lets us know it’s a question. This gets rid of the excess tag and gives us action.)

Weak: John continued to measure the room as he said, “I’m not stubborn. I’m methodical.”

Better: John continued to measure the room. “I’m not stubborn. I’m methodical.” (The “as he said” phrase is unnecessary. It’s obvious he’s talking.)

Weak: Susan laughed at him. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” she asked.

Better: Susan laughed at him. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” (The “she asked” is completely unnecessary.)

Weak: “The car won’t start,” Susan said, “and I’m already late for work.”

Better: “The car won’t start.” Susan turned the key but heard only a click. “I’m already late for work.” (Splitting dialogue can be used to emphasize a point, but be certain you use it effectively. Put something important in there, something more than just “he said”.)

Go through your manuscript and look at your tags. Are they necessary? Can action replace the statement?

 

Body Parts

The last point I want to make doesn’t really have anything to do with dialogue, but it is an important point. Unless your characters happen to be zombies, please, don’t leave body parts lying around.

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

He flung his arm over his head.

Ugh. I would rather not clean this up. It sounds like something a forensic scientist needs to do. Her eyes didn’t drop to the floor. Her gaze may have dropped or she studied the toes of her boots or some other action to indicate that she is looking down, but don’t have her pretty blues rolling around on the floor. And, unless he wears a prosthetic device, don’t have him flinging his arm anywhere.

People can eye someone while still keeping their eyes in their heads. They gaze, but they don’t clash. Mouths can drop open, but they can’t drop. Only jaws can do that, and only so far as they go while still being attached. Unless you’re writing a zombie book or doing an autopsy, always keep body parts attached. Use strong verbs and correct motion to indicate movement of the body.

Dialogue checklist:

1. Check the dialogue for information dumping.
2. Have you shortened long-winded areas in your dialogue? (No Hamlet soliloquies allowed).
3. Can you get rid of any tags and replace them with action?
4. Did you start any paragraphs with tags? (don’t)
5. Did you give each speaker a new paragraph?
6. Have you used ellipses and dashes correctly?
7. How smooth or stilted is the dialogue? Are more contractions needed? Fewer? What about fragments and/or run-ons? Remember, speech is not perfect.
8. Is there too much dialect?
9. Is the language proper for the time period, social standing and geographic location in your story?
10. Have you checked to make certain the punctuation is correct for dialogue?
11. Are there any body parts lying around?
12. Have you kept dialogue tags to a minimum?
13. Have you kept out adverbs?

Point of View

Now that you’ve gotten the building blocks of your story, you need people to put in there – the characters.

Point of view (POV) is defined as the person who is telling the story and from where s/he will tell the story. Ideally, it should be one person – two at the most – protagonist (hero or heroine) and antagonist (villain). Occasionally, a second hero’s or heroine’s point of view is also used, especially in romance novels. If you do decide to use two or three people, it is imperative that you keep their POV’s separate. This is done by having each POV confined to either a chapter or scene or, at the very least, a lengthy paragraph. The point of view should not skip from sentence to sentence. That’s called head hopping and, like watching a never-ending tennis match, becomes tedious and gives you a headache.

The first person point of view is told by “I”. This gets the reader immediately into the character’s head, but it limits you in perspective because you can only tell what’s going on from his or her perspective. Do you have some vital information that only the bad guy or the best friend knows? It doesn’t matter. Unless the hero finds it out for himself, you can’t use it. Nothing can happen that “I” doesn’t know. It limits who the reader gets to know, but it does allow the reader to get to know the main character really well. Note: the main character must be a strong individual in order to carry the entire story.

Third person POV is a story told by he/she. It allows you to be in the minds of multiple people and to see what’s happening in other areas away from the main character. This is the most common point of view used in today’s writing. It limits how well you get to know any one character in particular but allows you to know a little bit about a lot of things.

The omniscient point of view was common in books of the 19^th century. In this one, the narrator of the book can directly address the reader. You’ll find it common in books by Lewis Carroll and Charles Dickens when they address you, “dear reader”. It is not used in modern writing.

Characters

When you create a new character, you have the chance to make him or her however you want. What you want, though, is a well-rounded character, not a cardboard cutout.

As children, most of us played with dolls. Whether they were GI Joe’s®, Barbie’s®, or even Cabbage Patch Kids®, each type had one thing in common – their size, shape and clothing. If you had a nurse’s outfit for your fashion doll and your best friend also got the nurse, you had identical outfits. The office outfit consisted of a dark suit, white blouse and briefcase. For GI Joe®, well, olive drab is still olive drab. Unless you were creative with a needle and thread, your doll looked the same as everyone else’s.

Is that the way your characters look?  Do your heroine’s all have long, luxurious hair that falls in natural waves to their hips?  Are the women all tall, athletic with enough curves to keep it interesting, fair skin and exotic eyes?  What about your heroes?  Are they all tall, dark and handsome?

I once judged a writing contest in which every one of the seven manuscripts I read had a heroine who was tall with reddish hair and green eyes. Oh, there were subtle differences between the seven, but not enough to make them unique. After the third red-haired, green-eyed siren, I started looking for something – anything – that would make the character different. If this sounds like your characters, then you need to get out your writing needle and thread. It’s time to do some creating.

Stereotyping characters is something many writers do without even thinking about it. Not all people of Asian descent are small of stature with eyes that tilt up at the corners. Some of them are quite tall and have eyes that tilt downward. People of African descent aren’t just “black” or of basketball player size. The colors run the entire spectrum from palest coffee to deepest ebony and some of them are actually a bit on the short side. And not all Germans are Nazi madmen or jolly rotund women toting pots of coffee and serving strudel.

Even identical twins have something that allows their parents to tell one from the other. It may be a subtle mannerism such as the way one tilts her head a little further to the right than the other, or a physical attribute such as the number of freckles. The trick is to find the trait and identify the person with it.

The same is true for your characters. If you have an office worker, instead of putting her (or him) in the same dark suit/white blouse as all the other workers, why not give her a bit of flare?  Give her a brightly patterned scarf to go with that suit or put him in a pink shirt. And give her a reason for this. If you’re going to break the pattern, you should have a good reason. If it’s a character quirk, it has to be consistent with the rest of her life. You can’t have her being conservative in all aspects of her life and then suddenly wearing that bright yellow scarf for no reason at all.

Instead of long flowing hair, why not a short, perky cut that stands on end when she runs her hand through it in frustration – as she often does. Or make one eye green and one eye brown. I actually know a young woman with eyes like this. I asked her one time why she didn’t wear contacts to even the colors out and she said it gives people an interesting way to start conversations. She was in sales and did quite well. She used her quirk to her advantage.

Make your hero somewhat on the short side. It gives him something to overcome and still come out the hero. While this won’t work for all fiction, it may work for some. If he has to be tall and muscular, what about making him blonde with brpwm eyes?  Or even a (gasp) redhead?  In all my reading, I’ve never seen a redheaded hero. Granted, men with red hair are unusual – but it could work. Why not try something different?

So what makes a quirk and what is just an annoying mannerism?  Go to any public place and sit down for a while with your notebook and watch the people. A mall is a good place to do this. Pick out a couple of people and watch them (without being obvious). How do they walk?  Is her head up like she owns the world or down like she’s afraid to face anyone?  Is his stride long and powerful or a short shuffle?  How do they carry their packages?  How do they move in relationship to other people?  Does she make people move aside for her or does she move to the wall to get out of the way?  Does anybody stand out in the crowd?  Why?

Now, pick out one or two of the people that really got your attention and give them a background. Who are they?  What do they do?  Why are they acting the way they are?  What are their other physical attributes?  Do these add or detract from their personality?  Take a good look at the people around you. No two people are alike and neither should your characters be.

For each scene, decide how you’re going to refer to your characters at the beginning of the scene and be consistent with it. If your character is Mary Doe, you can refer to her as Mary, Mary Doe, Ms/Miss/Mrs. Doe or some other name, but it must be consistent throughout the scene.

Another thing you want to remember, especially when creating your main characters, is no wimps allowed. Save wimps for the secondaries – unless there is a compelling reason for your main character to be one. In this case, he or she may start out the story as a wimp, but has to end up the story as a stronger person (character growth).

When creating a villain, you need to evoke sympathy. The best villains have some reason for what they do and it has to resonate with the reader. Granted, this doesn’t happen all the time (the emperor in Star Wars has no redeeming value whatsoever), but it’s better when he does (Darth Vader).

Secondary characters should not take over a scene unless there’s a very good reason. They are there to support the main characters or add color to the story, not to be the main reason for the story. If they start to take over, then maybe you’re telling the story from the wrong point of view.

Questions to answer on characterization:

1. In each scene, how much time did you spend describing a new character? Is his or her importance worth the amount of time?
2. Have you introduced the entire cast of characters on the first page? Don’t character dump – introduce multiple characters gradually. This allows you to introduce more information about each character.
3. Do you have too many characters? Can you combine several secondary characters into a single character without losing the story?
4. Have you told us about the character’s emotions? Or shown them through actions?
5. Which point of view are you using? Have you been consistent throughout the story?
6. Do your characters seem like real people? Do they have both good points and bad? Even bad guys have good points and good guys have flaws.
7. What do you like about your main character? Does s/he have traits that you like? What about ones you dislike? The more enjoyable you make him or her, the more time your reader will want to spend on them.
8. Does your main character change or grow through the course of the book? If not, you may have to go back and check on the premise of your story.
9. Is your antagonist (a.k.a. villain or bad guy/girl) morally bad and not just a bully or brat? Those with bad morals are more interesting and have more to lose/gain.
10. Does your villain have charisma or something that attracts or charms other people? (Power, wealth, charm, fame, etc.)
11. Have you humanized your villain? Readers will identify with him/her if s/he has some good qualities.
12. Have you been consistent in how you refer to your characters?
13. Are the characters plunged into rising conflicts?
14. Have you told us about the characters’ emotions? Or shown them through actions?
15. Is each character a unique individual?

What is a scene? It is a part of the story that contains action. Each scene in your novel should set up a conflict, preferably one that builds on the previous one, like a series of steps. Step one is the basic story problem. The second step builds on that and ups the ante. The third builds on those two, and so on until you reach the highest step – or climax – of the story.

A scene puts the reader in the here and now. The action unfolds as they read, not in the past, where backstory takes place. Scenes contain setting details so the reader knows where he or she is as well as what is happening. They also contain action that is usually shown through dialogue between two or more characters. A scene contains three parts: goal (something the main character needs or wants), conflict (why s/he can’t have it), and disaster (a new problem as a result of the conflict). Each of these elements is important to a scene. And it’s important to keep upping the ante (the disaster), but remember to give your reader some breathing room too – a sequel.

A sequel also contains three parts – reaction (to something that happened), dilemma, and decision(what to do next). You can think of sequels as standing on the step of the staircase just before you take the next step up. You build the tension and action up, then give the characters a little rest. Let them catch their breaths for a couple of pages, then go back into the action. Sequels contain emotions, retrospection, or analysis. They are where the character has to step back, look at what has happened, and make a decision what to do next.

One thing you don’t want to do is overdo the narration part of a sequel. Though it is introspective, it should not be long or boring. Often authors go into what’s called an “info dump” where they tell the reader what’s going on, what has happened in the past, or what is going to happen. Narration slows the action down, but you don’t want to slow it down so much the reader gets bored and stops reading.

By utilizing scene and sequel, you control the pace of your story. Pacing is the rate at which the story proceeds. In a romance, your hero and heroine need to occasionally get out of bed; in a murder mystery, the detective needs time to look at the clues and figure out his or her next step. Even the characters in an action/adventure novel need a little time to regroup and reload.

There are two important aspects to check when looking at your pacing. One is the use of flashbacks, the second is called an information dump.

A flashback, also known as backstory, is simply the character thinking or talking about something that happened previously, either before the book started or in a previous section of the work. Usually, it is a bit of background information that is necessary either to understand the character or situation. If it shows up on the first page, or even in the first chapter, you may find yourself losing readers. Backstory rarely contains any action or tension. It is information, period.

The transition between the “now” time of the story and the flashback needs to flow smoothly so that the reader isn’t jarred. If possible, use dialogue to introduce or present backstory information. Dialogue keeps the passage more immediate. But be careful you don’t “info dump”.

An information dump is when you’re using dialogue or prose to present information the reader should have in order to understand the character or action. Yes, giving vital information is good. Giving it all at once, in large gulps, isn’t. Go through your story. Do you have long paragraphs of nothing more than explanations? Get rid of them. Break the info up into smaller bites and scatter it through the scene(s). In that way, you’re still giving the reader the information but not a lecture.

 

Try answering the following questions to see if you’ve got your scene and sequels heading in the right direction:

1. What is the event that sets off the rest of the action in the book?
2. Where does the story start? Try to start in the middle of the action or with “ordinary world”, but with something happening. If you start too soon with filler, you’ve lost your readers before you’ve hooked them.
3. Have you started the first chapter with a bang – something interesting and important that draws the reader on?
4. Have you avoided overloading the beginning with back story?
5. Will the reader care what happens to the hero/heroine? Why or why not? If the reader doesn’t care, s/he won’t read the book.
6. Do the events in each scene lead logically from one to the next, like a chain?
7. Is there variety to the scenes?
8. What complications have you thrown in to make reaching their goals difficult?
9. Where in the book does the reader know the hero/heroine will reach his or her goal? If too soon, you lose readers, if too late, scenes may need to be cut.
10. Do you have something important happen every three or four chapters?
11. Have you allowed for areas of downtime?
12. Have you ended any chapters with someone going to sleep? (not a good thing)
13. Have you used enough detail to let the reader know setting, character, events, etc. but not so much as to bore him?
14. Do you establish the main character of each scene at the beginning of the scene?
15. Have you wrapped up all loose ends by the end of the book without being too predictable?
16. If a mystery or suspense, do the clues you’ve given throughout the story support the ending?
17. Do you have a catchy or unique title that is appropriate for the story?
18. What makes your story unique? What gives it an edge over other stories?
19. Do you have more dialogue than narration? Dialogue keeps the reader with the characters.
20. When you read your story out loud, are there areas you tend to skip over? If you find them boring, so will your readers.
21. Have you varied the length of your sentences? Too many long ones slow down the action and too many short ones lead to choppy reading.
22. How much “white space” do you have? If you have areas where paragraphs run a half page or longer, can you break them up? There needs to be a balance between short and long.
23. Have your characters played Hamlet? If they are prone to long, windy speeches, break them up. Have something happen while they’re talking.
24. Have you devoted the right amount of space relevant to the character’s importance? Major characters get more page space, minor characters get less.
25. Does the opening introduce the main characters and setting without being an information dump?
26. Are transitions from “now” to “then” (flashbacks) as smooth as possible? Do you make them feel as if they are happening now

One of the first questions you should ask when you’ve finished your book is “What is my book about?” Try to boil it down to a sentence or two. This is the basis of plot.
Plot is what your story is about. If you just string together a group of sentences that have no coherency, you don’t have a plot. You don’t have a story. You just have words. In order to have a plot – and, therefore, a story – you have to be writing about something, preferably something that is includes conflict. If you write romance – the basic plot is: boy gets girl; boy loses girl; boy gets girl back (usually with a bit more action thrown in for interest.) Or you can think of it this way: plot is two dogs with one bone.

It is important to have a plot that draws the reader in – and keeps him or her reading. Proposing hypothetical questions the reader may ask does this. Consider the following passage from my story, “Prime Time”:
Deena studied the newest crop of lunar tourists and transports milling around the huge domed reception area as her partner began his spiel for his audience. On the far side of the shuttles, she caught a quick glimpse of Security leading out a sorry-looking group in binding collars.

One of the prisoners broke from the line and dashed for the shuttle. He never had a chance. The guards triggered his collar and took him down before he got ten steps. Deena winced as they dragged the unconscious man to a cart and dumped him. She hoped for the prisoner’s sake he never woke up. He’d be much better off. The guard glared at her and she turned away. She was here to do a job and forget whatever she might see. She could do nothing for them. Nothing.

The questions that arise are: What is Deena doing there? Why can’t she help anyone? Why would it be better if the prisoner never woke up? Is Deena a prisoner? What is going on here? Each question leads to another – and thus, the beginning of a plot.

Plot can take two basic forms, or even a combination of the two. It will usually be either a three-act structure (beginning, middle, end), or, from Joseph Cambell’s writings, be a mythic journey. It can also be a combination of the mythic journey within the three act structure.

In the three act structure, you have the beginning (Act I) in which you introduce the character(s), set the tone, establish the setting, introduce the story problem, and urge the reader to move on to the next section.

Act II is where you expand on these issues and set up the final moment of the story.
Act III is the final battle, the tying up of loose ends, and leave the reader satisfied.
The Mythic Journey, as explained by Christopher Vogler in his book (which I urge you to get), consists of:

Hero in his ordinary world
The call to adventure
Answering the call
Tasks and challenges
Tutor
Allies and opponents
Talisman
Final test
The return

In addition to these structures, most plots can be boiled down to patterns:
The quest – Indiana Jones looking for the Ark of the Covenant
Revenge – Inigo Montoya in “The Princess Bride”
Love – choose any “chick flick”
Change – Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol”
Adventure – Dorothy in “Wizard of Oz” or Luke in “Star Wars”
The Chase – “The Fugitive”
One Against – Batman in “The Dark Knight” or Erin Brockovich
One Apart – Rick in “Casablanca” or Han in “Star Wars”
Power – Lord of the Rings
Death Overhanging – death can take three forms: physical, emotional, or professional. For physical, “Titanic”; emotional – “Inception”; professional – “Pretty Woman”

Sometimes it helps to have something in the ending reflect back to the beginning of the story. You can do this with an object or with a situation that mirrors one in the beginning. For instance, if you had a story about a blackout, you could have the hero flicking the light switch at the beginning and – nothing. He goes through the apartment searching for candles. The story continues and on the last page, he flicks on the light switch and gets light – then turns it off and lights a candle.

Or you could have the very nervous heroine entering a particular building and at the end, she enters that same building, but this time, everything has changed, especially her.

When checking on the plot line, ask yourself what is the hero/heroine’s goal? If he or she doesn’t reach the goal, so what? Why should the reader care? What makes the goal so important that we need to read? If the goal or conflict is too simple, you’ll end up with the reader saying “they could have done that on page one”, and if they could have, that’s not a good novel. If the goals aren’t important, neither is the story. Having your character take a shower merely because she wants to isn’t a compelling action. It only becomes important if she happens to be staying at a place called “The Bates Hotel”.

Once you’ve set the stakes, raise them. And raise them again. And again. Keep the story growing.

In a full length novel, you will probably have several sub-plots as well as the main plot. A sub-plot is similar to a plot, but may involve secondary characters. Even with other characters, they should have something to do with the plot, a link that ties them to the main story line. Like a plot, they must be tied up at the end.

Then go on to the following questions:
1. What is your story about?
2. Who are the main characters in your book? There should be one or two – three at the very most (hero, heroine, villain).
3. What do they want? What are their internal and external goals and are the goals important enough to carry the entire story?
4. Why does it matter if your characters do or don’t reach their goals? If it doesn’t matter, you don’t have a story.
5. When are the goals met? If too soon, you might have a short story, but not necessarily a novel.
6. How do they meet their goals? They should have to overcome obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult to reach their goals.
7. Do you have subplots? How do they relate to the main plot?
8. Is there enough of a story to fill an entire book?
9. What is the initiating event that sets off the rest of the action in the book?
10. Does the conflict escalate, with a major complication every few chapters, throughout the book? Is the conflict believable?
11. Do you use compelling hooks at the end of chapters to keep the reader interested?
12. Are there enough twists in the plot, especially towards the end, to keep the reader reading?
13. Do you have subplots? How do they relate to the main plot?
14. Are all conflicts, problems, loose ends solved at the end?
15. Do you have a compelling opening sentence? One that draws the reader in and makes him or her want to continue reading? If not, can you make it more compelling?
16. Where does the story start? Have you included too much backstory?
17. Do you have a catchy or unique title that is appropriate for the story?
18. What makes your story unique? What gives it an edge over other stories?

Okay, the break is over. Time to get back to work. By now, you should have an idea of what you’re going to write, the characters, and the setting. You have your writing area set up – or know where you’re going to go to write. So it’s time to get to work. Writing.

That’s something I can’t teach you to do. It’s just plain hard work and something you need to do every day. Writing is a mostly solitary activity and you have to have the discipline to actually sit down and do the work. Don’t think you’re going to push out a full length novel in a few days. It’s not going to happen. To use a cliche, you’re in this for the long haul so don’t let it get to you. Just keep plugging away.

So what’s next on my agenda here? The next few weeks are going to be dedicated to what you do after you finish the book. That’s when the real work starts – the editing. Ugh. It’s not fun. It’s hard work, but it’s also necessary. So, here are the first steps for you to consider. I’ll post more each week.

The End.

Excuse me? I can see the raised eyebrows and hear the questions now. What are those two words doing here. I told you I was going to give you tips. And I am. “The End” is what you write when you have written the final sentence, but it doesn’t mean you are done. In most cases, when you write “The End”, you are actually at the beginning of the hardest part of the writing process – the editing. Oh, you think your agent or editor will take care of all the problems when they accept the manuscript? Don’t count on it. They will correct minor problems, but if you are an unpublished author – or even one who has been published multiple times – most agents and editors won’t look at your manuscript unless it’s as close to perfect as you can get it. They don’t have the time to correct multiple misspellings, grammar faux pas, or other mechanical errors. It won’t matter if it’s a great story – if there is an abundance of errors, you’ll get it back, along with a rejection letter.

Okay, before you go off and decide to catch up on missed sleep, give this a chance. You’re here for one reason – you’re a writer, as am I. We love words – the way they sound, the way they go together to make us laugh, cry, hope, despair, love, hate, or think deep thoughts – or shallow ones. It all depends on the way they’re put together.

When we put a bunch of words together in a more or less coherent semblance, it makes a sentence. Put together a number of sentences and you have a paragraph. Build on that and you have a chapter or a short story. Add more and you have a book. It’s a little like building a tiered cake. You start with the raw ingredients, put them together in a particular way, bake it, and build it.

The raw ingredients consist of plot, style, pacing, dialogue, sensory details, voice, point of view, facts, spelling, grammar, punctuation and word use. How you blend them together into a coherent recipe determines whether you end up with an edible creation, or something better fit for the garbage disposal.

Can I guarantee you’ll get published after you do all this? No. Nobody can do that unless you’re talking about a vanity press – but that’s an entirely different issue. The publishing business is too subjective for guarantees. But when you’ve finished, your writing will be tighter and have more impact, and you may even learn a thing or two that you can apply to your next manuscript. So good luck and get ready to get to work.

Tip #1: Put the book you’ve just finished writing away for at least a week, more is better. Watch movies, read other books, take long walks, relax. Or, better yet, start your next book. Do anything other than look at your manuscript. That way, you can come back to it with a fresh eye.

Note: Although I “cite” rules and “you should…”, remember, the novel is yours. If you want to break a rule, and have a good reason for doing so, then break it.

Homework this week: get to work writing. Or, if you’re done, put that manuscript away and start the next one. Then come back next week and we’ll work on editing for plot.

For those of you who are in the Lancaster, PA area, I will be teaching a series of workshops on how to write a novel at Aaron’s Books in Lititz, PA. 35 E. Main Street, Lititz, PA.

www.aaronsbooksonline.com

Specifics:

WRITING CLASS
“So You Want To Write a Novel…”
4 Sundays
March 24- April 22 (there will be no class held on Easter Sunday)
3-5pm

 You’ve been creating stories your entire life, but have no idea what to do with them. Or read a book and thought you could do better. This class is for you. From first idea to final edits, this series of four workshops will give you the basics you need to get started on your novel. Included will be discussions on creating believable characters, crafting worlds, self-editing, and more.

$100, register by emailing vicky@aaronsbooksonline.com

This lesson will concentrate on sequels, which is nothing more than a transition that links two scenes, like a hallway between two rooms. It can be long or short, but, like a scene, it consists of three elements: reaction, problem, decision. It is an area of the story where the reader finds out what the character is thinking and trying to decide. It can also be the place for flashbacks (areas where the reader is let in on something that happened in the past that has an impact on what is currently happening.).

Sequels provide reasoning to your story. They let readers know WHY a character is doing what he’s doing, as well as how s/he reaches his/her decision. Sometimes, a character will decide something in a sequel, then do exactly the opposite. This can only work if we find out in the next sequel why he did what he did. It is a part of human nature to do what is contrary to what we should do, but there should be a valid reason. This is what is shown in a sequel. This can be powerful and dramatic, but the reasoning – the logic – has to be there. Sequel is aftermath. The state of affairs and the state of mind that shapes your character’s behavior AFTER disaster has knocked him down.

With sequels you can also control the pacing of your novel. Dwight Swain, in TECHNIQUES OF A SELLING WRITER, tells us that long scenes equal big interest and long sequels indicate strong plausibility. He also emphasizes that if your story tends to drag, you should strengthen and enlarge the scenes, add and build up the conflict. On the other hand, if it is moving too quickly, you can use sequel to back things off, give the characters, and the reader, a chance to breathe.

Jack Bickham (who was a student of Swain’s) wrote in SCENE & STRUCTURE some tricks you can play with in your sequels which will add to the reader’s pleasant discomfort:

1. Set a clock ticking so the character has only so many minutes to reach a decision. Some other character may set this time limit, or the viewpoint character may set it himself.
2. In the thought segment of the sequel, have the character realize whole new dimensions of the previous disaster and his present plight that he hadn’t thought of before.
3. Consider having the character’s emotional reaction overwhelm him, so that he plunges back into the story battle with insufficient thought.
4. Devise a way to insert a “roadblock” scene in the early stages of the action segment so that the viewpoint character must, in effect, have a sidebar fight of some kind to find his way back to the next scene which he sees as relating directly to his long-term story goal.
5. Hold out on the new decision. Write something like, “Then she knew what she had to do.” But don’t tell the reader.
6. Stage an interruption – an outside stimulus – which forces the character to “stop sequelizing” and meet the new threat.

Bickham says that you will find as you work more with dramatic narrative structure that some of the devices mentioned here can often be spotted in published stories. You’ll also notice how some authors “mix and match” their techniques, using a hint of one trick and parts of one or more others.

Homework: Look at your scenes from last week. Where do you need sequels? Be sure to include the three parts of a sequel: reaction, problem, decision.

REFERENCES:

Swain, Dwight, TECHNIQUES OF THE SELLING WRITER, University of Oklahoma Press: Norman, ISBN 0-8061-1191-7

Bickham, Jack M., SCENE & STRUCTURE, (Elements of Fiction Writing Series), Writer’s Digest Books, ISBN 978-0-89879-906-4