Narwhal

A real animal taken from a fantasy. I wonder if its horn gets in the way as it tries to swim.

...smiling as if she were happy

I recently read a book where the author used the words "as if" an awful lot. The problem is not the words themselves, but how he used them.

"He grimaced as if he were in pain."

"He screamed as if he were angry."

"He shook as if he were scared."

"She smiled as if she were happy."

Ugh, after the fifth time in the first chapter, I rolled my eyes. I did a lot of eye rolling while reading this book.

The problem is that this author wasn't using "as if" to create a metaphor. He was using it to tell what he had just shown as if we couldn't figure out that smiling meant happiness and shaking meant fear and grimacing meant...

You get the idea. Rather silly really.

Not-So-Helpful Writing Advice

Have you ever shared your writing endeavors with someone who doesn't write? It usually ends with some ignorant advice.

"You need to read this book because
this author knows how to write."

Implication: ...and you need to learn.

For someone who refuses to read anything I write, who doesn't write himself, who hasn't studied the craft, that was some of the worst advice ever. Sure, reading is a good way to improve the quality of your writing, and I did need to grow. But that wasn't what I needed at the time.

Besides, I had no desire to read that book after that.

"You should write a children's book.
There's a lot of cute books out there."

I'm working on writing YA fantasy and science fiction. I've worked really hard on my craft and building an audience. Now is not the time to try to change my direction.

"Getting published in a free anthology
isn't going to help your writing career.
You have to get paid for your work to
be considered by a publisher."

What a way to rip a person apart.

"Your character should be more angsty."

I have two characters in this story, both characters have faced the same painful experiences. One is angsty. The other snapped and went insane. It was the insane one that they thought should be angsty, and that totally didn't fit the character or the story.



Had any experiences of busybodies telling you how to write when they know nothing about writing? Please share.

Edit the Ego Out of Your Work, Part 4

Once I've written my first draft, added scenery, and fixed my dialog, I work on wordsmithing.

1. Watch your sentence patterns. No two sentences should have the same pattern and cadence within a paragraph. Use simple sentences, complex sentences, compound sentences, complex compound sentences, fragments to keep the words flowing.

A sample from my story Symbiote to be published in the YA anthology Unlocked in August:

Standing on the highest roof in the city, I leaned over the side and peered down. Far below me, clouds swallowed up the lights and noises of the city. My hands clenched, nails digging into my palms, tears streaming down my face. Lost. Alone. Empty. I felt as if the world had devoured me and left me to die.

2. Watch for echo throughout the paragraph, the scene, the story. Cut out or change words to keep things fresh.

I recently read a battle scene that contained the word titanic twice and titanically once. The whole scene sounded riciculous.

3. Watch for similar subjects within your sentences. I read a book where every sentence had the POV as the subject.

Thomas looked around the room. He saw the book on bedstand. He wondered what it could be.

Boring.

4. Watch for weak verbs. Words like was, were, seemed, looked, had, etc. make for very boring prose.

"Darkness crawled along my skin" is more active than "The room was dark."

5. Watch for too many words.

He smiled at her.

Editing the Ego Out of Your Work, Part 3

You've written your first draft; you've added texture with the 5 senses. Now it's time to clean up the dialog.

Here's the rules as I follow them:

1. Group the dialog.
2. Group the action; try not to interrupt the natural flow of conversation.
3. Keep the tags to a minimum.
4. Don't let tagless conversation go longer than 4 lines.
5. Keep the character voices unique.

When I read, my eyes slide over the tags. Most of the time, I know who is talking by context and voice. In the passage below, I set the set the stage with some description and action, and at the end, I add some internal commentary to solidify the scene in the reader's mind.

In the middle, the dialog speaks for itself.

Rising to my feet, I face her. Her bald head, freckles, and dark eyes--it's like looking in a mirror. But she wears the blue uniform of an elite soldier. I wear the white scrubs of a patient. Jadon folds her arms across her chest; lips press together; chin juts out. Not one emotion flickers across her face as she studies me.

Fidgeting, I glance away. “The dragon told me to.”

“That’s what you told me last time.”

“I had to come.”

“Father will kill you if he finds out.” If her face wasn’t made of stone, she would be frowning at me.

But I know she is right. Favorite project or not, he won’t let me live if he can’t control me. Should I be afraid? Could death be any worse than living here, in the army’s barracks? Or am I already dead? I’m not really sure. I could be.

Editing the Ego Out of Your Work, Part 2

My first draft is a brain dump, empty of anything other than action, more of an outline of events than a story. I don't care how it looks; I just want to barf my ideas onto paper. Most of the time, I grit my teeth and close my eyes, cringing at every horrible word I've spewed, reminding myself I can fix it later.

If I think about how terrible it is, I'll never finish.

Different authors have different methods of editing. For me, the process is like adding layers or shading. The first draft is a rough sketch, then I add the shading with sensations (sight, sound, smells, texture) to make the world real.

In this passage below, I originally said that Jadon stood at the top of a cliff. Nothing about her emotions, what she saw, how she felt. It was the beginning of a new chapter, and even though I had painted the scene in the previous chapter, I needed to reinsert the reader into the scene.

Adding the "sensation" layer gave me an opportunity for some character development. Jadon had just shot someone point blank. By describing the scene through her eyes, it took on a whole new dimension.

Standing at the top of the precipice, Jadon looked down at the men milling about on the quarry floor, at the body lying lifeless by her own hand. She pictured herself falling to the bottom, her arms spread wide. Then she would be free, her memories wiped clean.

In this passage, Jadon and Lelea are tracking down a stowaway on their stolen spaceship. Lelea moves down one passage while her sister takes another. Written in Lelea's perspective, the story originally focused on Lelea's movements--walking down the hall. In trying to add the sight, sounds, and smells, this is what it became:

Jadon disappears around the corner, her boots clinking on the metal floor. Click, click, clack, click. Click, click, clack, click. I raise my gun and step in the opposite direction, matching Jadon's rhythm. Click, click, clack, click. Signs, directions, rules, patriotic slogans, and pictures of the General fill the walls. I put my hand on my father’s face as I pass. Would you have loved me if I hadn’t been broken?

Likely not. You don’t love Jadon either.

But I’d rather have my brokenness than your love.

Here's a section that had absolutely no scene description when I started. Ahern walks up, and they start talking and looking for the intruder. What a missed opportunity!

Alone, I tremble.

People, memories of things I never experienced, trudge down the halls, in a continuous flow away from the cockpit. Weary lines streak their gray faces. Empty eyes stare out from ragged souls. I shiver as one of the cold figures pass through me.

From the posters on the wall, my father’s smiling face cheers them on to their duties, which they race about to achieve like faithful dogs, wagging their tails, even as the master raises a gun to shoot them. I want to scream at them, shake them, tell them the truth. You are the army’s slaves. The ones I vow to rescue.

But you don’t really exist. I have imagined you. My waking dream.

Everytime your characters enter a room, turn a corner, or fall through a trapdoor, take the opportunity to add sensation. Ask yourself these questions:

1. What do you see?
2. What colors are there?
3. How much light is there?
4. What do you smell?
5. What do you feel?
6. Is it warm or cold?
7. What is the weather like?
8. What does the wind feel like, smell like, taste like?
9. What do you hear?
10. How does the POV feel about these sensations?