Category Archives: fiction writing

Introducing Geoffrey Cameron Fuller

Geoffrey Cameron Fuller recently teamed with Daleen Berry (Sister of Silence) to write about the stabbing murder of high school honors student, Skylar Neese, by her two best friends. Their work resulted in two books, The Savage Murder of Skylar Neese (BenBella Books; February 2014) and Pretty Little Killers: The Truth Behind the Savage Murder of Skylar Neese (BenBella Books; July, 2014). The crime and the books were featured on Dateline (NBC), Dr. Phil (NBC), 20/20 (ABC), and I Killed My BFF (Lifetime). The Savage Murder of Skylar Neese peaked at #12 on the New York Times bestseller list, and the second book, released in July, 2014, is selling well.

(At a Pretty Little Killers book signing.
Geoff Fuller (left), IFW intern Jessica Nelson (middle), and co-author Daleen Berry (right))

Fuller has been writing and editing professionally for twenty-five years and has become familiar with just about every form of contemporary writing. In addition to feature journalism, he has written award-winning nonfiction, sudden fiction, short stories, and novels, as well as a range of business and technical writing: annual reports, white papers, vision and values statements, feasibility studies, market analyses, conference proceedings, advertising copy, political speeches, grant applications, and textbooks. He is the author or co-author of five books, and his writing is credited in another dozen books.

(Geoff Fuller at a signing for his book Full Bone Moon)

 In addition to publishing under his own name, Fuller has also been widely published as a ghostwriter, read aloud his fiction in a variety of settings and performed it on the radio, given dozens of workshops on business writing and the publishing industry, and taught classes on the novel, sudden fiction, and memoir since 1997. Fuller was a contributing editor for Writer’s Digest for several years, sat on the Board of West Virginia Writers, and is the only person to have won prestigious WV Arts and Humanities literary fellowships in all three prose categories: fiction, nonfiction, and memoir.

For six years, from 1998-2004, Fuller worked as a developmental editor for Fitness Information Technology, a sport psychology and sport management publisher based in Morgantown, West Virginia, since 1987. Before that, he worked for about ten years for the Center for Entrepreneurial Studies and Development, Inc., a nonprofit business resource firm and occasional publisher, also based in Morgantown.

Currently, Fuller works as a freelance writer-editor for a variety of private clients and occasionally hosts writing classes on the Web or in a variety of locations around the state. He lives in Morgantown, West Virginia, and is a member of International Thriller Writers.

10 Things I Learned at the WV Writers Conference

by
Jessica Nelson

I wanted to title this blog “10 Super-Cool-Awesome-Amazing Things I Learned at the WV Writers Conference,” but, alas, all that would not fit into the title bar on Blogger. But I digress.

So this past weekend was the annual West Virginia Writers Conference in Ripley, WV. This was my fifth year in attendance and my second year working it as an intern. As always it was a great time, but the thing I love most about it is that every year I learn something new. There is always an abundance of knowledgeable presenters to lead workshops and panels. Since many of you are non-West Virginia natives and may not ever make it to a WV Writers Conference, I’ve decided to share the top ten things I learned this year.

10. You have to be brutally honest with yourself. In particular, you need to be honest about your style and your work ethic. This came from Sheila Redling’s workshop. One example she gave was if you are the type of writer who only writes five words a day, you will not feasibly be able to put out two books a year. If you know you are easily distracted, take care of anything you know will be a distraction before you sit down to work. Hold yourself accountable for your work.

9. Sometimes when you’re stuck, it’s because you’re out of sync with your characters. Also from Sheila Redling, this advice resonated with me. On a fundamental level, it makes sense. How can you tell your character’s story when you and your character are not on the same page? So sometimes you need to take a step back from the story and focus on the character. When you and your character have reached a new understanding, go back to the story and try again.

8. Monsters are metaphors. Now, I know that not everyone writes fantasy, sci-fi, or horror, but this advice applies to almost any antagonist. Monsters in particular are metaphors, or embodiments, of our worst fears. A couple of classic examples instructor Frank Larnerd gave were Frankenstein’s Monster (fear of science) and Freddie Kruger (fear of being punished for our sins). And your monster metaphor should match your hero’s fear/weakness/past. That is how you “build a better monster.”

7. When making a “monster” (or villain, or antagonist), do a “monster sketch” that addresses the following: what makes him/her/it a monster? Why is he/she/it like this? What is one noble/good thing this monster does? This came from Marie Manilla’s workshop “Monster Theory…” and forces us as authors to create a fully formed, three dimensional, realistic antagonist. Seriously, try to answer these questions with your antagonist in mind. You will have no choice but to explore all the facets of your character.

6. For anyone writing in verse: the first word and last word of a line hold the most power, so choose your line breaks carefully. This can also apply to prose. The first and last phrases are the “power words” in a paragraph. I participated in a workshop by Kate Fox where we took a handful of lines, written out like prose, from famous poems and each re-wrote them into verse the way we thought they should go. Even though we were all using the same words, our choices in line breaks gave each version a different meaning and different effect on the reader. Even the length of the lines impacted the tone and message of the poem. So make sure your line breaks contribute to the intended effect of your verse. 

5. Start with a believable context. This applies mostly to fiction writers, especially those writing fiction with outrageous or paranormal or fantastical elements. This advice came from storyteller and champion liar Bil Lepp, who made us all believe he’d been smashed into the ceiling by a dentist’s chair. You want to know how he did it? He eased us into it. He started out telling us about a toothache he got, the subsequent trip to the dentist’s office, and getting bored sitting in the dentist’s chair while waiting for the dentist himself to come into the room. So he started playing with the pedals that made the chair change position. The story started so normal and familiar that when odd things started happening, we all subconsciously suspended our disbelief. We trusted what was happening in the story, because he made it fit and work within the context. This is great advice to fiction writers, because if you get too crazy, too quick, you lose your reader’s trust. And even if the point is to be fantastical and out-there, the use of real, normal, and familiar details helps to ground the reader and allow them to connect the story to their own lives.

4. Writing without “emotional language” (“I love this” or “she hates that”) allows the details to “show” your feelings without being sappy or overly sentimental. This nugget of wisdom comes from Jon Van Kirk. He discovered the truth of this statement when he did an assignment with his students at a university. He told his classes to describe a lost-to-them but still familiar location. In the first class, he told them not to use “emotional language” and the students produced vivid descriptions that evoked a range a heartfelt emotions—without ever once naming those emotions. The second class did not produce the same results. Because he forgot to tell them not to use emotional language.

3. In the first few pages of a novel, set up the character, conflict, setting, and voice. This advice came from Edie Hemingway’s “Strong Beginnings” workshop. It applies to any genre of writing and can even be adapted for short stories and other styles of writing. Basically, you want to set up everything the reader needs to know in the first couple of pages. Who is the story about? What are his/her age, race, education, and (to a lesser extent) appearance? What is the conflict of the story? You don’t have to spell it out, but you can start to hint at it or get the ball rolling. Where is the story taking place? And—this is very important—you need to establish the voice, which, ideally, is a combination of your voice as a writer and your character’s voice. Most importantly, establishing all that in the first couple of pages not only grabs the reader’s attention, but it will also hopefully grab a publisher’s attention and keep your manuscript off the slush pile.

2. Don’t get stuck on the first page. Chances are your original first page will change or the story will ultimately start somewhere else. This also came from Jon Van Kirk and his workshop “The First Fifty Pages.” Basically, you don’t have to write your draft in chronological order. You can write any scene from any point in the novel at any time you want. Then, when everything is written, you can figure out the order. For someone like me who gets stuck on the first few pages (every single time), this came as quite a relief. It was like I had been granted a stay of execution. Now if only I can get myself to walk away from the chopping block.

1. Writers are amazing people. Technically, I am re-learning this, as I do every year at the conference. And it’s something you learn from the conference as a whole. Writers are big-hearted, friendly, encouraging, and just all-around-awesome people. Not to mention talented. I’m always thankful that there are writers willing to share their talent and knowledge—not just in the form of presenters, but the attendees as well. And writers are just nice. I had nearly half a dozen people or more come up to me at some point over the weekend to tell me I was doing a good job, or thank me for my hard work, or tell me that they liked my writing. I’m not sure there is anything that makes a writer glow more than another writer complimenting her work. I also had one woman call me over in the parking lot on the very last day. She handed me a copy of her poetry book with the handwritten inscription “Thanks for all you do,” which left me a sentimental puddle all over the asphalt. And, of course, every year I make new friends and reacquaint myself with old friends. Let’s be honest, a conference is only as good as the people who are there. And if you are at a conference that’s filled to bursting with writers, it’s guaranteed to be amazing.

The Secret to Using Flashbacks

by
Sandy Tritt
 

As writers, we have many tools (or devices) available to us. These devices allow us to do things a normal human cannot do, such as travel in time, know what characters are thinking, and hop from one location to another. However, if we indiscriminately used all the tools all the time, our readers would be so confused they wouldn’t be able to follow the story. Therefore, we try very hard to follow the action line of our story chronologically, revealing what happens in the sequence in which it occurred. We also try to stay with just one character’s thoughts at a time (our viewpoint character), and we limit each scene to one location (unless the viewpoint character is in motion, in which we move with the viewpoint character).

However, there are times when we need to give background information about a character—and there are times when we need to act out that background information. This acting out of something that happened in the past is called a flashback. Since flashbacks interrupt the current action of the story, we must always weigh the advantages against the disadvantages. Are the benefits we receive (a glimpse into a character’s past) worth leaving our characters dangling in time while we go into the past? If so, don’t hesitate to use a flashback. If not, continue with your storyline and find other ways, such as exposition, discussion, etc., to entwine the past with the present.

If you choose to use a flashback, you must follow the secret, unwritten rules by doing two things that will tip the reader that you are leaving the present. First, you must provide a transition statement, such as, “John remembered the day his father died.” Second, you must shift your current story tense to a more distant tense. For example, if your main storyline is in present tense, you’ll need to slip into past tense for the flashback. However, if your main storyline is already in past tense, you’ll need to use past perfect tense (“had”) once or twice. Do note that if your main storyline is in present tense, you should present the entire flashback in past tense. However, if your main storyline is in past tense, you should only use past perfect once or twice. That’s enough to clue your reader that you’re going further in the past, and, by then reverting back to simple past tense, you avoid the clumsiness of remaining in past perfect. 

This combination of transition and tense switch is what lets the reader know they have stepped into the past. So, your job now is to act out the flashback scene with action and dialogue, and, when you are finished, clue the reader that you are returning to the present by using past perfect once or twice (if your main storyline is in past tense). Then, revert to your normal tense, and, if necessary, include another transition sentence (“But that was then and this was now, and John had to let the past stay in the past.”) that further clues the reader the flashback has ended. Here is an example:

            Danny remembered more about his mother’s death than he’d ever told anyone. The day she had died, she had called each of her sons to her bedside individually.
            “Pour me a cup of fresh water, please,” she said, her voice thick with the Polish accent that decorated her words when she was tired or sick.
            Danny filled the cup, careful not to splash it on the bedside table.
            “Now, hand me my lipstick.”
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            “Be good,” she finally whispered, her voice raspy.
            He went to the door, started out, then stopped and turned around. His mother tapped several tiny white pills from the lipstick case and shoved them into her mouth. She gulped water, then dumped more pills into her palm and swallowed them. Three more times, she had repeated the process.
            Even now, Danny felt responsible for her death. He looked at his father and swallowed hard . . .
 
As with all devices, it’s imperative you don’t overuse flashbacks. They are spices to be sprinkled lightly, used only when absolutely needed.
If you have questions about any writing craft issue, please leave us a comment and we’ll be happy to address your concern in a future blog. Our editors are professional, published authors who are experienced in all the tricks of the writing trade, and we are here to help you. If you’d like a free sample edit, visit our info page at http://www.inspirationforwriters.com/editing/sample.html. If you’d like more great writing tips, sign up for our newsletter http://www.inspirationforwriters.com/nls/newsletters.html or purchase our Inspiration for Writers Tips and Techniques Workbook at http://www.inspirationforwriters.com/products/workbook.html. Thank you.

What is a Ghostwriter, and Who Needs One?

           
by Rhonda Browning White
            I can’t help but hesitate when people ask what I do for a living. “I’m a ghostwriter,” I finally say. The reactions I receive are never dull. “Oh,” someone might say, “I love ghost stories.” Uh, no. I don’t write ghost stories. That is, unless someone hires me to ghostwrite a ghost story. Once a (rather rude) woman said, “Isn’t that selling yourself, like a prostitute?” Um, double no! Ghostwriters indeed write stories for other people that are (typically) published under that person’s name, instead of their own. But then, so do many journalists and newspaper writers. I recall the first time I had a story accepted by a local newspaper. I rushed out that morning to buy a few extra copies of the edition in which my story would appear. And there was my headline in bold print . . . follow by the editor’s name in the byline. “But that’s my story!” I wailed. “I wrote it!” Such is the life of many news journalists. I whined for a bit, but then I realized it was no different than when I’d worked as a secretary, composing professional-sounding letters for my boss, who would then sign his name at the bottom, as if he were the one who’d agonized over that brilliant marketing hook in the first paragraph. Like journalists and secretaries and a host of other professional writers, ghostwriters write to help other people. And believe it or not, we usually enjoy that privilege!

 
What do we write?

            As a ghostwriter, I’ve been able to write political thrillers, Christian romances, memoirs, self-help books, even a screenplay. A ghostwriter works with her clients one-on-one in whatever capacity is needed to bring even a germ of an idea into a full-fledged manuscript that’s ready to submit to agents and publishers.   

 
Why hire a ghostwriter?

            Until they actually try to do it, most people think it’s easy to write a book. They come up with great ideas. They can see some of the scenes playing out before their eyes. But once they actually try to write, they realize it isn’t as easy as it looks. There’s so many things they hadn’t considered—point of view, voice, character arcs, plot devices—the list goes on and on. Writing is a craft that takes years of study and even more years of practice.

           
How much does it cost?

            Ghostwriting projects vary greatly, and the costs fluctuate with the amount of work involved. In addition to writing, some ghostwriting projects require research, collation of data and facts, and confirmation of sources. A typical ghostwriting project costs in the five-digit range. “What!” you may say. “That’s exorbitant!” But is it? A professional ghostwriter may work from four to twelve months on one project, sometimes working more than forty hours a week during that time. Would you expect to make less than a five-digit salary for half a year of hard work? Probably not. If you’d expect to make it, then you should expect to pay it.

 
Who hires a ghostwriter?

·         Your grandfather. Yes, we’ll write granddad’s memoir for him, taking care to use his voice as we chronicle his life into a book his family will cherish for generations.

·         Your neighbor. Everyone has a story to tell, whether it’s the story of how they single-handedly fought off a bear, how they hitchhiked across America in the 60s, or that idea for a romance they’ve put on the back burner for three decades. They may not have the skill to write the story, but man, that story deserves to be told. That’s where a ghostwriter comes in.

·         Professionals. Doctors, professors, ministers, technology developers, business leaders, and others have information to share, but who has the time to devote to mapping out a textbook, a self-help manual, or a devotional? We do!

·         Published authors. Sometimes an author will sign a three-book series deal, but then get so busy with the book tour (or vacationing on their advance) that they are nearing the deadline to turn in their next book in the series, but don’t have time to finish it. A ghostwriter can help them meet the deadline (and help them keep what’s left of their contract advance).

·         Publishers. Yes, even publishers occasionally send writers to us when the writer has an excellent story, but lacks the professional skill to write it in a manner that is publishable.

·         You! What’s your story? Doesn’t it deserve to be told? Do you dream of seeing your book alongside others in a bookstore, or popping up on your Amazon feed? Give us a call today, and let’s discuss what a ghostwriter can do for you!

The Most Important Sentence

by Charlotte Firbank-King
editor, writer, illustrator
The most important sentence you’ll ever write is the first line of your book or novel. There’s nothing easy about writing that first line—but many times, that line will decide if the reader will continue reading or not. Here’s what that first line must do:
Hook the reader
Here is an example of an opening line—the hook:
The captain stood on the deck of his ship in torpid heat, slowly whipping his wife.
This was an example given to me years ago by a publisher, and I use it all the time. A number of things cause the reader to want to read on—things that hook them.
1) What era is it?
2) Torpid heat? Where is it happening?
3) Why is the captain whipping his wife? More curiously, why is he whipping her slowly?
The reader wants these things answered. They are almost compelled to read on. Hook your reader in one or two sentences. 
Hit the ground running
The first line is the most important part, next the paragraph, then the first page, but having said that, if the first five pages aren’t fantastic you will lose the reader. Most certainly, you will lose the publisher or agent. They’re very busy and can tell in the first paragraph if they want you or not. Then they are more convinced if the first page is great. However, that interest wanes rapidly if the second page doesn’t deliver, but they will probably forge on for another page. After that, if you don’t continue to deliver, it’s all downhill and your manuscript ends up on the slush pile.
The opening paragraph doesn’t have to be a mother throwing her ten children into shark infested water—tempting as the thought might be when your brood is that big—but it does have to grab the reader’s attention and hold it.
Smaller hooks at the ends of chapters.
You want your reader to keep turning pages, so end each chapter with a hook that will drag them to the next one. After a gut-wrenching chapter the protagonist finally makes it to safety. You slow the pace, bring the reader down until they are ready to fall asleep and read another day. But then you drag them right back into the action. They must read on.
Emma sagged to the floor in lifeless air, safe at last. Then a door snicked open and icy fingers caressed her neck. End of chapter. A bit dramatic, but you get the picture. You could drag it out and switch to another character in the next chapter, but you might piss your reader off, so choose your moments with care.
Four examples of opening lines:
The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed. (Stephen King, The Gunslinger.)
It was the best of times, it was the worst of time, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. (Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.)
They shot the white girl first. (Toni Morrison, Paradise.)
Lolita, the light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. (Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita.)
Examples of first paragraphs/lines from our editors
Our team of editors is immensely versatile and talented. The nature of their job requires them to work in different genres, which they do with amazing ease and skill. Although our editors can work in multiple genres, they can’t work in every genre, which is why IFW needs editors versed in various genres. On a personal level, they each write in their preferred genre.
Sandy Tritt, short story, “Cousin Mary”:
What is the truth? And is the truth always more honest than fabrication? More noble? I don’t know. It makes my head hurt. But here I sit at the Crystal Cafe, waiting for my sisters. Stuffed inside my purse is the truth. The real truth. And I have just a few minutes to decide if I will reveal it.

Jimmy Carl Harris, “I Come to the Garden Alone,” the first story in his short story collection, Wounds that Bind:
 I buried you next to him.

Jessica Murphy, “Nature’s Conscience”:
 I awoke with a sharp pain in my back, sprawled across what felt like cables.
Sandi Rog, Yahshua’s Bridge:
 Alexander held his breath as the man he’d never called Daddy forced him underwater.
Patsy Evans Pittman, Blood Kin & Other Strangers:
Deena stood in the kitchen of the house where she grew up, giving the creamed tomatoes one last stir. It was hot as blazes and the window air-conditioner in the dining room didn’t help much. She blew the fringe of bangs out of her eyes, then swiped at the sweat on her upper lip with the sleeve of her over-sized WVU tee shirt.

Sherry Wilson, Second Beginning:
The cameras flashed as Danielle stepped out of the limo, her sights on the entrance of the Royal Albert Hall. The paparazzi swarmed around her like killer bees and she longed for a cloak of invisibility, if only for the short trip to the doors.

Rhonda White, Good Friends. Read the rest at Steel Toe Review: Contemporary Southern Arts & Literature – http://steeltoereview.com/2013/09/16/good-friends-by-rhonda-browning-white/:
She has a great body, my friend does, I’ll give her that. And I have no problem telling you she’s at least ten years younger than I am, and looks it.

C.F. King, All Things Carnal:
Thomas Gantry wore tolerance like a hair shirt, with grim determination. Daily, he did penance for Man’s sins. Self-flagellation was his redemption, and joy his nemesis.
As you can see, it’s important to start your story with a line that makes people want to read on. If you’re having trouble with this, let us know. We can help.
© 2013. Charlotte Firbank King. All Rights Reserved.