A compilation of Writing tips #1
Just a compilation of short notes I thought I'd turn into full-length post but realized how long they've been waiting on my to-write list and compiled them into one. Enjoy!
Strengthening Your Writing Muscles
Last week I went to my first ever Pilates class. It wasn’t just me on the mat strengthening my core. It was me on a reformer machine recruiting muscles I haven’t recruited in decades. (Maybe ever?!).
My yoga practice was/is helpful, but when I was on that reformer machine, I learned some of my yoga asana habits contributed to the tension in my body.
It got me thinking about writing and the habits we create.
Think about your writing muscles. Which ones do you overuse? Ignore?
And which do you not even know exist?!
Today, I wanted to offer you some ways to recruit some of those underused writing muscles. Think of it as a writing rendition of the Pilates reformer.
1. Strengthen Your Verb Use: Ferret through your sentences. How many variations of the verb “to be” appear in your work. Question them. Can you find a stronger verb? Or better yet: a more specific action.
Not: He is going to Mexico.
But: He booked a flight to Mexico.
2. Use Embodied Emotions: Locate emotion in your protagonist’s body. And then what’s the protagonist’s response to that rise in emotion? Combine the physical presence of the emotion with some action/interior thought and you strengthen your prose.
Here’s an example from my story “At the Edge of Everything”:
“A not-so-gentle scream built in her throat and she almost, almost released it. Then she became hyper-aware of Wheatie’s steel-wool gaze, so she lightened the pressure, spat sand off her lips, converted her voice into sugar, anger turning, as it often did, to a deep and shameful heat.”
3. Get Specific: Often writers have a clear picture of what’s happening in their story, but don’t get specific enough in their word choice and descriptors to translate that picture onto the page. When you write, imagine your scene starts blurry–out of focus–and your job is to clarify the pixels, bringing the picture into clearer view.
Not: Three guys talked on the beach.
But: Three guys stood ankle-deep in the water; they spoke about boat engines, rifles, and drunken nights.
I suggest you play with these in a notebook. Pretty soon you’ll naturally reach for the stronger verb, and use the verb ‘to be’ sparingly and judiciously.
An Easy Way to Get a Stuck Scene Moving Again
Unless you’re very, very lucky, at some point in your writing you’re going to get stuck. Maybe you’ve written yourself into a corner, you can’t figure out how to get your protagonist where she needs to go, or you just have no idea what the conflict is supposed to be. Whatever is causing it, you sit at the keyboard and grow more and more frustrated by the minute.
It’s not writer’s block—you can write, but the novel has stalled and you don’t know what to do to get it moving again.
Instead of struggling to fix the scene that’s not working, try this:
Go back to the last time the character made a decision and have them choose something else.
If the story has stalled, it could be caused by a choice that sent the protagonist down a plot dead end. There’s nowhere for the story to go because this is as far as that choice can go.
That decision point might be earlier in the scene or several chapters back. It might even be a major turning point that didn’t pan out like you expected. But something along the way derailed the story. Making a different choice creates a different plot path for the protagonist, opening up new possibilities to advance the story.
If it doesn’t, this could indicate:
1. The new choice isn’t actually a different choice.
If the only differences in a choice are the specifics of that choice, such as, “should I choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream?” then nothing about the scene will change. No matter what the protagonist chooses, she’s still eating ice cream, and by the end of her tasty treat, she’s in the exact same spot.
But a slight shift of that choice to, “should I stay home and eat ice cream or go to the mall and have ice cream?” creates an opportunity for a different scene outcome. She might meet someone at the mall, or something might happen along the way, or she might decide to stop and do a little shopping after.
Look for a way to create choices that change the outcome of a scene in a more significant way.
2. The new choice was too different.
In an effort to fix the problem, you might accidentally go too far and make the choices so wildly different it changes the story. “Should I go out for ice cream or should I join the army?” will certainly lead to very different places, but odds are your original story didn’t account for your protagonist randomly joining the army.
Look for choices that will lead to different possibilities that still fit the existing story, not ones that will throw in the unexpected just to shake things up.
3. The problem was really caused by an earlier choice.
Sometimes it takes a few chapters before a wrong turn is identified, and the plot-stalling choice actually occurred several decisions back. Fixing any of the choices after that point don’t help, because they don’t change the plot path.
If, “I think I’ll go to the mall for ice cream first” removes the protagonist from the path of trouble, nothing she does at the mall will change the scene. But if trouble lies at the post office, and she decides to go to there first instead, her entire life could change.
Look for decisions that might have inadvertently sent your protagonist away from the plot or conflict instead of toward it.
4. The problem is a structural turning point choice.
If nothing else unsticks the scene, it’s possible a wrong choice at a major turning point has derailed the novel. It’s no fun when this happens and often requires a lot of rewriting to fix—especially if the problem is early on and you don’t realize it is a problem until later.
Finding these wrong choices are harder since they affect nearly everything that comes after them, so you might consider checking the plot choices at an outline or synopsis level to see where it went wrong.
Do a quick editorial map for plot-advancing decisions to help you spot potential problems.
The protagonist’s choices determine the plot, so the wrong choice can lead you right into a dead end. Luckily, you control your story, so you can just turn the plot around and go back to the exit you missed.
Revise unnecessary passive voice.
Passive voice is when the subject of the sentence gets all the action instead of the subject doing the acting. Such as, “The ball was thrown by Troy” vs. “Troy threw the ball.”
The easiest way to find passive voice is to look for "to be" verbs: is, am, are, was, were, be, been, have, had, has, do, does, did, has been, have been, had been, will be, will have been, being. By is another red flag word often seen mixed in with passive voice, such as “Kenny was run over by the runaway snowmobile” vs. “The runaway snowmobile ran over Kenny.”
Search for these red flag words and determine if the subject is acting or being acted upon. Rewrite any passive sentences that don’t need to be passive. Sometimes, the passive voice is the right thing for the sentence, so don’t feel you need to change every instance of it.
3 Things to Consider When Writing with Multiple Points of View
Multiple points of view offer advantages that a single point of view can't provide (be it first or third person). They allow you to follow multiple characters, show events happening in multiple locations, show comparisons, and tell the parts of the story a single POV isn't privy to.
However, they also have pitfalls the single POV doesn't face. Multiple POVs mean multiple characters and storylines, and if their goals differ from the core conflict goal, it's easy for each POV character to feel as if they have their own book. Several storylines can become a mish-mash of unrelated plots that don't connect well, or don't do any of the storylines justice because there's not enough time to flesh out all those plots.
Here are some things to remember if you're writing multiple third person point of view:
1. Pay attention to how the various storylines and subplots fit together.
It's not about a few characters having separate adventures in a similar location, it's about how those adventures create situations that are going to collide at some point and affect your core conflict. Maybe it'll be for the good, maybe it won't, but it'll be interesting. Consider:
What does this character need from the other POV characters?
How do these POV storylines affect each other?
Where are the conflicts between the POV characters? Where do they overlap or interact?
Are the POV characters aware of each other?
What is the purpose of the other POV characters? What do they bring to the main storyline or conflict?
Watch out for this pitfall: If a POV character is there only to show what your protagonist can’t know, odds are you don’t need that POV.
2. Understand how each POV character’s story affects the protagonists' story.
Call it the butterfly effect, but if one character does something in one place, that can affect a POV character in another location. And watching all those separate strands slowly braid themselves together is a great way to hook the reader. Even if readers can't see what the connections mean yet, they'll see the effects happening and will eagerly anticipate how they'll all come together in the end. Consider:
What happens in this POV that will affect the other POVs?
What happens in the other POVs that affects this POV?
What actions hinder or help another POV?
Watch out for this pitfall: If a POV doesn’t change anything in the protagonist’s story, it might not be necessary.
3. Don’t forget that the larger world events have far-reaching consequences that can help and hinder your various POV characters.
One character's action can force everyone to change their plans, which is an effective way to nudge them all toward a similar goal or story arc. It can also reinforce that this isn't several stories in one, it's several characters working toward one larger goal. They can all have different ways of getting there, and desires of their own, but make sure your characters are all working toward the same “end goal” (even if one of them is working to stop that goal). Consider:
What actions are critical to the core conflict and plot?
What pieces are resolved in each POV?
Who is responsible for resolving the core conflict? How do the other POVs help? (or hinder)
Watch out for this pitfall: If a POV character doesn’t have any effect on the core conflict, you probably don’t need that POV.
Multiple POVs can help you tell rich stories, but they can also lead you to do too much in one novel. It’s a good idea to consider all the pros and cons before adding one.
Think about your ending and what resolving the conflict means for your story.
It’s not uncommon for writers to have great ideas, but where those ideas end up is often a little fuzzy. But the more you know about how your story ends, the easier it is to plot toward that ending. Writing down your novel’s ending is a simple way to clarify that you know where the story is going. The act of putting it down forces you to articulate what is going to happen.
Think about your story and its ending. Ask:
What constitutes a win for the protagonist?
What has the protagonist been struggle with all book?
What is the single most important goal to be achieved?
Does your story end with the protagonist winning? How?
Does the protagonist overcome that struggle? How?
Does the ending resolve that goal the protagonist fought to achieve? How?
If you can’t answer these questions, or you’re not sure exactly how to answer them, that could indicate a problem with the conflict of the novel, or a plot issue. If you’ve had trouble with endings in the past, figure out your ending before you get there. If not knowing is part of your process and it works for you, then keep on writing.