Category Archives: writing tips

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.

Deadly Sin Three: Passivity

Passivity is what lulls our readers to sleep—no matter how exciting our story. Here are some ways to get rid of this deadly sin.

PASSIVE SENTENCE CONSTRUCTION. Construct sentences so the subject performs the action instead of having an action performed upon the subject. This means the actor (subject) is mentioned before the action (verb), not after. Sentences that begin with “there are,” “there is,” “there was,” or “there were” are always passive. Get rid of them.

Passive: Sleeping was used by the writer to prevent exhaustion.
Active: The writer slept to prevent exhaustion.
Better: The writer slept.

Passive: A book is read by the student.
Active: The student reads a book.

Passive: There were three people in the grocery line.
Active: Three people waited in the grocery line.

PASSIVE VERBS. Watch for passive verbs, such as was, is, were, are, had, am, and so forth. Replace them with active verbs, the most active and descriptive words you can think of. Your prose will come to life.

PRESENT PARTICIPLES. Verbs ending with “ing” (and requiring a helping verb) are by nature more passive than those ending with “ed.”

Bad: She was eating breakfast.
Good: She ate eggs and toast. (Specifics never hurt!)

BONUS TIP: If you’re using a “helping” verb (was, were, is, are) there’s a good chance you’re passive.

BONUS TIP: Never start a sentence with “there was” or “there are” or any variation of these.

(c) 2008 Inspiration for Writers, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Deadly Sin Two: Telling Not Showing

by Sandy Tritt

The First Rule of Writing is Show, Don’t Tell. That sounds easy, but what, exactly, does show mean? It means we must act out our scenes using action and dialogue in such a way that our reader can visualize exactly where he is and who he’s with—all while keeping him on the edge of his seat. Let’s look at an example:

Carey ate breakfast, then he took a shower and went to the store. At the store he met a girl and they talked for a long time. Carey liked her but she blew him off. Then he went home.

Tells you a lot about Carey, huh? Okay—so this example is exaggerated, but it hits home the necessity of showing and not telling. What can we do to fix it? We need more detail, especially in dialogue and action. Consider:

     Carey studied the frozen dinners. He’d had turkey and dressing for the last four days, so Salisbury steak would be good for a change. But did he want the “Big Man’’ or the regular?
     A scent teased his nose. Not the overwhelming smell of fish and frostbite, but a fresh smell, like the smell of skin just out of the shower. He glanced sideways and saw the most perfect arm he’d ever seen in his life. Long, slender, graceful, full of sinewy muscle and smooth skin. His eyes followed the arm to the shoulder and then the head. Her head. A head covered with long blond hair and containing a face that made his heart stop.
    “Hi,” she said, her voice rich and melodious.
     Carey’s mouth didn’t work. He tried to return her greeting, but only a grunt came out. He tried to smile politely, but his face erupted with a grin as large and toothy and goofy as a cartoon character’s . . .

So now you have the idea. We need details. We need to know thoughts, feelings; we need to smell the perfume, taste the wine, feel the cashmere. It is especially important to act out emotions and emotionally-packed scenes. This is the writer’s opportunity to shine. Never tell us what a character is feeling. Show us. Anything less cheats the reader from experiencing our imaginary world.

Bad: John was angry.
Good: John’s eyes narrowed. He slammed his fist on the table.

We also find the “show, don’t tell” problem in less-apparent ways. For example, in description.

Bad: Mary was a pretty girl, with blue eyes and blond hair.
Good: Mary’s blue eyes glistened with joy, her blond hair bouncing with each step.


Bad: Molly is a wonderful person.
Good: Molly is always there when anyone needs her. She’s the first to arrive with a casserole when someone is sick, the first to send a note of encouragement to those who are troubled, the first to offer a hug to anyone—man, woman or child—at anytime.

Instead of saying Sam is a talented musician, let us hear the crowds cheer, let us feel his passion. Take us into his head as he strokes the piano keys:
     
     Consummation of the soul. That’s what Sam called the gratification he received from music. When his passion became so intense it begged to be satisfied, pleaded to be released, and he was helpless to resist its urges. When his fingers assumed a life of their own, titillating the ivory keys with the complex music of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven, and he became one with the cadence, breathing with the crescendos, his fingers caressing the melody, until everything else faded, everything else disappeared, and only the music existed.

Dialogue is another area where we have the opportunity to show or to tell. “I love you,” she crooned. “I love you, too,” he sputtered. And I cringe. First, using creative dialogue tags (crooned, sputtered) is telling, not showing. Let the power of your dialogue and the accompanying action show your readers the tone of voice and the emotion. Consider:

     “I love you,” she said, her voice smooth as her fingers massaged his Rolex.
     “Love you, too,” he said. His glassy eyes roved over her naked body, his mouth too wet and limp to properly form words.

You can’t tell us someone is a wonderful person, a talented musician or a spoiled child. We won’t believe you. You must show us. Throughout your manuscript, look for any opportunity to show us in real time, to act out, to let us feel.

But—does this mean we should act out absolutely everything? Uh-uh. Let’s face it—if we showed everything, our novels would run tens of thousands of pages—and readers would die of exhaustion. So what do we do? We must decide what information the reader needs. Just because we know everything about our characters and just because we spent weeks researching, it isn’t necessary to share everything we know with our reader. We must choose only the details we need to authenticate our story and omit everything else.

One of the most difficult and most crucial elements in story-telling is knowing when to give play-by-play action and when to back off and summarize. Play with this. If a scene doesn’t hold your interest, maybe it is better to summarize it in a sentence or two and go on to something more important. However, if it is a pivotal scene in the plot or critical to our understanding how our character reacts in a given situation, go for it. Give us action, give us dialogue, and let us experience and savor every single moment of it.

BONUS TIP: Never name an emotion. That’s a sure-fire giveaway that you’re telling and not showing.

© 2008 Sandy Tritt. All rights reserved.

For more tips visit www.InspirationForWriters.com

The First Deadly Sin of Writing

by Sandy Tritt

The Devil of Rejection tempts every writer with the Seven Deadly Sins of Writing. They seem innocent enough—a misplaced comma here, an adverb there—but soon the writer finds himself sinking into the dreaded darkness of the Rejection Pile. Often, he doesn’t even realize he’s been deceived. So let’s reveal the Seven Deadly Sins of Writing for what they are—Death to your manuscript.

DEADLY SIN ONE: POOR GRAMMAR AND SPELLING
And punctuation and word choice. Nothing shouts “AMATEUR!” as loudly as poor punctuation, ghastly grammar, and sporadic spelling. No matter how wonderful a story is, if the writer doesn’t make an effort to proof for these problems, no agent or publisher (or reader) will take you seriously. If you do not have these skills yourself, hire an editor. If you plan to make writing your vocation, take classes at a local college, pick up a good reference manual (we recommend the Little, Brown Essential Handbook for Writers by Jane E. Aaron—$26.75 at Amazon.com), and keep up to date by subscribing to email services (we recommend Daily Writing Tips at http://www.dailywritingtips.com/  and Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips at http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/)–and, of course, our own blog, newsletter, and bevy of tips on our website. Proof your manuscript, have five friends proof your manuscript, and then proof, proof, proof again.

BONUS TIP: Be consistent, especially if you wander from conventional usages. For example, if you choose to capitalize a word that is typically not capped, do so throughout your manuscript.

BONUS TIP: Limit use of exclamation marks, ellipses, colons and semi-colons.

BONUS TIP: Periods and commas go INSIDE the quotation marks.

Next week, we’ll post the Second Deadly Sin of Writing. See you then!

(c) 2003 by Sandy Tritt. All rights reserved.

All Work and No Play Makes a Dull Writer


by Guest Blogger Karin Gillepsie

Have you ever read the work of a young, uncorrupted writer? It’s like venturing into a jungle: Fresh. Green. Wild. Monkeys beating their furry chests. Parrots shrieking. Anacondas curling around trees. A chaos of creativity.

Such a writer is ruled almost entirely by her subconscious. The subconscious—let’s call her Crazy Daisy—doesn’t know the difference between a gerund and a dangling participle; she only cares about expressing herself. Writing is play, not work.

Unfortunately, Crazy Daisy, charming as she is, has a problem: her work meanders like a toddler strewing petals at a wedding; she needs to be reigned in.
Enter Ms. Grind.

Ms. Grind Cares About the Rules

She’ll tell Crazy Daisy that a sentence can’t run on for three pages or that exclamation points shouldn’t be showered over a page like pepper. She’s so bossy and judgmental she frightens away Crazy Daisy. Ms. Grind doesn’t care; she doesn’t needs that wild little girl hanging around anyway. Yet when she tries to have fun with her prose, it’s scary, like having Dick Cheney ask you to pull his finger. Most of her writing comes out freeze-dried and soulless.

Fact is, all writers are slightly schizophrenic, their minds divided between Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind. We usually start out dominated by Crazy Daisy but once we immerse ourselves into the sea of endless writing rules, Ms. Grind tends to take over.

Can Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind live harmoniously in a writer’s head? In other words, is it possible to create prose that’s technically proficient but also has passion, wonder, and playfulness? Yes, but only if you allow Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind to play to their strengths.

New Ideas Usually Come from Crazy Daisy

You’re taking a walk or daydreaming and suddenly . . . BAM! You get a great idea. Crazy Daisy, impetuous minx, wants to start writing immediately. It’s like she has a case of diarrhea. You’ll be tempted to run with her. Don’t do it. Stop and take a moment to diaper the little imp.

Believe it or not, it’s time to bring Ms. Grind into the equation—not to shoot down the idea—but to structure it. Ms. Grinds loves outlines and plans and she’s good at them. After a little structure work, she might find that the idea isn’t workable after all. Sadly, not all of Crazy Daisy’s ideas are golden. She likes to take risks—and some don’t pay off.

In fact, it’s wise to begin every writing session with Ms. Grind and structure your thoughts when you sit down to write, whether to compose a short scene or a brief essay. You’ll satisfy Ms. Grind and give Crazy Daisy some perimeters. T.S. Elliot summarized this process:

When forced to work within a strict framework, the imagination is taxed to its upmost and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom, the work is likely to sprawl.

Keep Ms. Grind Out of Your First Drafts

Once structure’s in place, it’s time to let Crazy Daisy loose. Allow her to scribble on walls, turn somersaults or eat paste. Sometimes she might break down structural walls—but that’s okay too. Ms. Grind, however, isn’t allowed in. Why? Because she’ll keep up a steady stream of inner dialogue that sounds something like this:

That sentence was abysmal. It must be fixed immediately. Can’t you do anything right? Who do you think you are, passing yourself as a writer?

Occasionally Crazy Daisy interjects, bringing flashes of brilliance, but mostly it’s Ms. Grind who stands over the writer, wielding her ruler.

Not surprisingly, Ms. Grind doesn’t give up her authority easily. How can you keep her out of your head when you’re drafting?

Learn How to Break the Judgment Habit

Most people aren’t aware of the stream of criticism flowing in their minds while they’re writing. Thinking is so fast and transitory, it can be hard to catch Ms. Grind’s endless digs. That why it’s helpful to develop a habit of sitting quietly and meditating for fifteen minutes each day. Ms. Grind will no doubt object, saying, “What a ridiculous idea. Do you realize we’re wasting valuable writing time sitting around doing nothing?”

She’s no dummy. Ms. Grind knows that meditation is the best way to access all of Crazy Daisy’s wild brilliance. Meditation helps you to recognize Ms. Grind’s judgmental thoughts, and to ignore them when you’re drafting a piece.

When Crazy Daisy takes over the draft, watch out, because diamonds and gold nuggets will start shooting out of your computer. BEWARE. Don’t pat yourself on the back because that, too, is a judgment, and any time you make a judgment, you’re issuing an invitation to Ms. Grind. The time for judgment, positive or negative, is in the re-write. Not now.

Writing will suddenly be fun again and as effortless as letting out a whoop of joy. You’ll find yourself falling in love all over again.

One caveat: Crazy Daisy is very messy.

When you go back to revise, you might be horrified at the results. Yes, the writing was intoxicating but the hangover’s a killer. Ms. Grind will say, “I told you so.” Don’t listen to her. Simply ask her to help you clean it up. She’ll balk at first, saying, “If you left things to me there wouldn’t so much clutter.”

True, but neither would there be so much fresh, wild writing. Give it a try and see. It can be a little disorienting. You might not even recognize your own prose. By the way, there’s an easy way to tell which personality dominates your writing. If you love the drafting phase and hate structure and rewriting, Crazy Daisy probably dominates your writing. If you like outlines, loathe the drafting phase and love to polish your prose, you need a T-shirt that says “Team Ms. Grind.”

*If you resisted reading this article, thank Ms.Grind. She’s not interested in articles about making writing fun. It threatens her authority. She much prefers list articles like “Ten Ways To Punch Up Your Dialogue.” They’re useful; this article is a waste of time. Crazy Daisy, indeed.

Karin Gillespie is the author of five novels. Her publisher’s website is http://authors.simonandschuster.com/Karin-Gillespie/20149647.

Bring Your Character to Life

We’re approaching the end of the Spring season, and you know what that means: new life all around us! This life is inspirational! And with a little help, might just inspire us to give life to our own creations: our characters.

Giving life to a character is one of the most rewarding parts of being a writer. It’s also one of the most difficult. Too many times in fiction we witness the “cardboard” or one-dimensional character. It takes more than the snap of a finger to create real characters, those we can visualize and root for and love. Instead, they develop over time, over many hours spent together.

As a writer, you need to think of the development of characters as being a process, a life cycle, instead of a moment of genius creation. One of Inspiration for Writers most requested workshop is “The Life Cycle of a Character,” which breaks getting to know a character into several phases.

CONCEPTION is the initial spark, the idea that originally causes us to want to create this character. Sometimes the plot generates a spark—we know a story we want to tell and we need a character to tell it by. Sometimes we see a setting—a country porch with a dilapidated swing—that makes us wonder what kind of person lives there. Sometimes we run across a photograph that sparks our imagination and we create personality to go with the physical features. Or sometimes we see a possession like an antique spinning wheel and wonder the type of person who would own such a thing. Whatever the cause, writers conceive a character from an idea.

During the conception phase, we need to start assigning characteristics (knowing that once our character takes on a life of his own, he may change any of our assumptions about him). But, to get started, we still go through the paces. You may find it helpful to use a Character Trait Chart to assign physical description and background information.

BIRTH is when we pick up the limp character that we assigned physical attributes and psychological traits to, hold him in our arms, and breathe the breath of life into him from our very own souls. It’s also the turning point — his actual birth—and we cease having absolute control over him.

The first breath of life is when our character has a goal or “character statement.” What, more than anything else in the world, does this character want? Consider the following character statements:

To become wealthy so the love of my life will return my love.
To have fun.
To keep my family together.
To break into the Rock ‘n Roll charts and become a rock star.
As you can see, a character’s goal can be as deep or as vapid as the individual. Note that for some characters, this statement may be a life goal, but for others, it may change as the character matures. Regardless, this is what motivates our character, and we must understand this motivation if we are to continue to add depth to his personality.

Part of a character’s birth is the “layering” of personality traits. I have found that a good book of the Zodiac that includes both star signs and moon signs is a “cheap” way to add dimension to a character. Also, I search psychology books for complementary traits. Using resources can help with your writing. For example, you may find that alcoholics often possess irrational fears and suspicions or that a criminal skyjacker often has a religious mother who confided in him, that bed wetters are often aggressive and have difficulty adapting to new situations. These are the types of traits that add dimension to our characters.

ADOLESCENCE is when our character begins interacting with his environment. How does the setting of the story affect him? What is going to happen to him and how will he react to what happens to him? What conflict or fatal flaw will prevent him from achieving his goal? How will he overcome this conflict or flaw? How will he grow?

MATURITY is the final fleshing-out of a character. We now add body language (be sure to study a good body language text to understand how posture, facial expressions and mannerisms affect the way we are received by others) and dialogue to our character. We need to give him a distinctive voice, not just externally, but the way he will think in internal dialogue. Perhaps most importantly, we need to understand his emotional makeup. To fully understand our character, we need to mentally try him out in several emotional scenes so that we can know how he will react.

DEATH. Great characters never die. Never.

So—giving life to a character is much like being a parent. We do the best we can for our characters, give them years of our lives, our love and understanding, but the day comes when they rebel and say, “Enough. Let me be me,” and we must allow them to live their own lives. And that is when we as writers have truly given life.

For additional tips, worksheets, and discussions, order your own copy of the Inspiration for Writers Tips and Techniques Workbook, which can be found on our website: InspirationForWriters.com

Writing Tip Card – Writing Wrongs

What do editors do when they get bored? (Okay, that’s a trick question. Editors don’t have time to get bored). However, in their spare time, the editors at Inspiration for Writers, Inc., made a list of the top “writing wrongs” they encounter. As the list grew, so did the suggestions for what to do with such a list. The result? A 3.75″ x 8.25″ glossy card you can keep by your computer to remind you to right your writing wrongs before sending out your manuscript.

The best news? We’ll send a free card to the first ten people who email Sandy at IFWeditors@gmail.com. Be sure to send your full mailing address and state what you want (a free Writing Wrongs card). If you belong to a writing group and would like enough for your group, email Sandy with the number of people in your group.

Now, in case you can’t wait for your full-color card, here’s what they say:

WRITING WRONGS
Think your manuscript is ready to send out into the world? Before you do, polish your prose by eliminating or reducing:
~ Spelling and grammar errors. Proof once more.
~ Telling. Take the time to act out scenes with appropriate action, dialogue, and description.
~ Was, were, is, are. Each time you locate one of these “to-be” verbs, find a way to omit it. They are often a clue of passive sentence construction. Bad: There were three boys in the room. Better: Three boys wrestled in the gym. Note that fixing passive construction forces us to use more powerful verbs and urges us to be more specific.
~ Present participles (the fancy name for “ing” verbs). Replace with past tense wherever possible. Bad: It was raining. Better: Rain pelted the windows.
~ Helping verbs. Bad: She began to sing. Better: She sang. Bad: She could hear a train. A little better: She heard a train. Much better: A train whistled in the distance.
~ Adverbs. “Ly” words are a sign that a stronger verb is needed. Bad: She was exceedingly tired. Better: She was exhausted. Better: Exhaustion weighed her shoulders, ached her limbs.
~ Creative dialogue tags. Bad: “I love it,” she jittered. Better: “I love it,” she said.
~ Dialogue tags. Replace with an action or body language. Better: “I love it!” She hopped on one foot and danced around John.
~ Dialogue explanations. Don’t tell your reader what your dialogue shows. Bad: John told her off. “Don’t you ever do that again!” Better: John’s eye twitched. “Don’t ever do that again!”
~ Intensifiers. Very, really, totally, completely.
~ Any nonessential word. If a sentence reads just as well without a word, leave it out. Common criminals: that, of, prepositions at the end of a sentence, and suddenly used to create urgency (when action should be creating that urgency).
~ Clichés. If you’ve heard it before, so has your reader. Find a fresh way to say it.
~ Stacked adjectives. If you must use an adjective, pick the strongest one. Bad: The large, gray, angry fox attacked the rabbit. Better: The large fox attacked the rabbit.
~ Exclamation marks. Use only when shouting.
~ Ellipses ( . . . ). Use only when text is missing or, occasionally, as a device to show a falling off in tone during dialogue.
~ Redundancy. Say it once; say it right. Readers are smart. Really.
~ Viewpoint breaches. Know whose head you’re in and stay in it. Or stay out of all heads.
~ Smiling, nodding, laughing, sighing. Nothing wrong with these, but overuse will remove the sizzle from your finely-crafted words. If you use any of these more than once per scene, try to find more creative actions or fresher body language.
~ Gawking characters. Get your character out of the way of the action. Bad: John saw the sun rise. Better: The sun tiptoed into the horizon. Bad: Jill watched the squirrel shell nuts. Better: The squirrel shelled nuts.
~ Named emotions. If an emotion is named, it means you’re telling, not showing. Bad: She was angry. Better: She slammed her fist on the keyboard.

***
Be sure to request your card while supplies last. And remember, when you need a second set of eyes to review your writing, we’re here.

(c) copyright 2011, Inspiration for Writers, Inc. All rights reserved.

A Slice of Writer’s Life

BLAH, BLAH, BLOG!
Writers write. Writers should write something everyday. Yes, seven days a week and something besides checks made out to the electric company. But where do the time, the energy, and the ideas come from? Believe it or not, it’s a self-perpetuating cycle. The more you write, the more you have to write.
In my book Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity, I describe writing to be a muscle. And like the other muscles in our bodies, the writing muscle needs to be exercised and kept in tip-top shape. The writing muscle is kept well toned only by writing. The more we write, the better shape our writing muscle is and the more we have to write. See? Self-perpetuation cycle. What counts for writing exercise?

I keep my own writing muscle in shape by journaling almost everyday of the week, writing several blog posts a week, and writing book reviews for several online sites. And yes, I still have plenty of time, energy, and ideas for my historical romance novel in progress. The key is discipline and not going overboard with what you have to say in any one area. It also helps with learning key fiction elements such as pacing, passive voice, and RUE (Resisting the Urge to Explain.) My writing muscle is warmed-up by the blogs, reviews, and journal entries I write. It’s in those playing fields I am able to watch myself change and progress as a writer. This blog post today is a good example. Let me explain.
Writing blogs, journal entries, and book reviews for several years have taught me to get to the point with what I’m writing in my fiction. The reader wants to know what’s important first, not after a six or seven adverbial phrase describing every bat of the character’s eyes before they utter a word. What the character is doing is integral, but when two people are in the same room and on the same page, they need to be talking to keep the pace of the pages turning for the reader. I have also learned not to repeat what the character says with something we at IFW like to call “narrator intrusion.” Which is what I just did. I just told you something, then intruded on your thought processes by telling you what I just told you. In this fast paced world of ebooks readers want to know and get on with it. Don’t stall them. They will put your book down for good.

BLOGS
What do you say in a blog? My good writing friend Kristen Lamb, author of We Are Not Alone, The Writer’s Guide to Social Media is currently doing a fab series on what, why, and how to blog.
You will not regret subscribing to Kristen’s blog. Take my word for it. Because blogging is not only about getting the word out about you as a writer, it’s most importantly about creating community. Another change in the publishing world. Blog. It’s eventually good for your writing in sooooo many ways.
BOOK REVIEWS
I started writing book reviews because I wanted to read the books my young daughters were reading so we could have a conversation about them and so I could keep connected to their lives. They’ve grown up to be voracious readers and I still review books for kids, teens, and adults. Here’s the latest review for POSER, MY LIFE IN TWENTY-THREE POSES, Claire Dederer:

Writing book reviews keeps my writing muscle toned because it forces me to read and analyze as a reader, writer, and editor. That’s everything I am after mom, cook, laundress, etc. ugh… Anyway, book reviews aren’t exactly easy to write and the format calls for a strictly limited number of words. Again, the practice keeps my fiction writing lean and well paced. Because of reading books and writing reviews, I can almost instantly spot a mistake in my own work because my writing muscle is in tune.
By the way. Look at the top of the book review site and click on the button Review for Us and get started!
JOURNALING
Journaling is something I’ve talked about at length in the archives of this blog and my own site for Writer Wellness.

Visit and subscribe by clicking on the “subscribe” button at the top and get email alerts when I’ve posted a new blog! See? Community!

Meanwhile, remember to look for a digital or print copy of Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity at Who Dares Wins Publishing, http://whodareswinspublishing.com/.

And check out these great blogs for ideas to keep your writing and publishing healthy and prosperous.

http://writeitforward.wordpress.com/ Bob Mayer

http://jenniholbrooktalty.wordpress.com/ Jenni Holbrook

http://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/ Kristen Lamb

http://inspiration4writers.blogspot.com/ Inspiration for Writers, Inc.

Be well, write well.

Joy

Copyright 2011 Joy Held. All rights reserved.

SUDDEN, FLASH, SHORT-SHORT


By Rhonda Browning White

No, I’m not talking about skirt length, but about a form of fiction that’s growing in popularity. The short-short, a.k.a., sudden fiction or flash fiction. What exactly is flash fiction, and why should you consider writing in this form?

Flash fiction varies in length from 250 to 1500 words and can be written in any genre. Instead of spending days or weeks plotting and fitting together the chapters of a novel or book, you can easily pound out a work of flash fiction in a matter of minutes. Another bonus of writing sudden fiction is that it can loosen so-called writer’s block (though I don’t believe in that condition—but that’s another article). It will cause your mind to shift gears and can often be a form of welcome relief to keep you writing while you’re taking a mental break from a longer piece of work.

Is it easy, then? Not always. The strict limits of word count will challenge you to create tighter, sharper prose. The goal of sudden fiction is to provide the reader with a flash of insight or illumination that may provoke deeper or longer thought. Even a super-short piece of fiction should have a climax and resolution to feel satisfying to the reader.

So what are some tips for creating exciting sudden fiction? Here are the basics:

  • Limit the number of characters. One or two are usually enough.
  • Use only one scene or setting. Think of a snippet of life as viewed under a microscope.
  • Include vital information only. Detailed back-story has no place in flash fiction.
  • Use sparse dialogue. Save lengthy conversations for a regular short story or novel.

It’s good to know, too, that there’s a growing market for flash fiction, so it’s a valid way for beginning and experienced writers alike to build a resume of bylines and publications. Collegiate and literary magazines like Glimmer Train Press often publish shorter fiction pieces, as do online literary journals. Romance magazines like True Story and True Romance publish dozens of short-short pieces each month. Weekly supermarket magazines like Woman’s World pay well for sudden fiction. Be on the lookout, too, for anthologies like Sudden Fiction: American Short-Short Stories that specialize in flash fiction.

Short-short fiction will likely continue to grow in popularity, thanks to our busy and hectic microwave lifestyles. Most pieces can be read in less than a minute, but enjoyed for much, much longer. Remember, the best things often come in small packages, so try your hand at flash fiction today!

Avoid Clichés: Get Past the Mundane Use Your Brain!

by Stacy Tritt

Her face fell. Fear gripped her. She was all bent out of shape.

Clichés are everywhere. They infect our writing, and make what we thought was a fantastic, captivating piece of work… well, boring to our readers. So how can we fight the pandemic of clichés? There are several approaches to this battle. First we must know how to identify clichés. Next, we must learn to guard ourselves against them. And last, we can use the basic idea of a cliché against itself in order to eradicate it. Here’s how:

Many of you may be wondering, how can I tell whether something is a cliché? Here are a few questions you can ask yourself to find out:

1. Have you read those words or actions in the same context you are writing them in before? If your answer is yes, then the phrase is either cliché—or you’re plagiarizing. Either way, you want to avoid it.

2. Can the words you’re writing be considered a common figure of speech? For instance, in “her face fell,” did her face really fall, as in trip, tumble, or slide off of her head? Of course not! That would mean something entirely different. It’s a figure of speech, one that the majority of English speakers know, and is therefore considered a writing cliché. A good technique to get rid of clichés from your writing is to go back and read your work aloud so you can better recognize whether or not you have heard a specific phrase before.

So, you’ve found the clichés in what you’ve already written, and you’re ready to move on, but you want to break the habit of naturally writing clichés into your work. But how? Second guess yourself. If the words flow from your fingers like you didn’t even have to think about them, then chances are you didn’t, because you already know the words you’re writing, because they are cliché. Clichés are often the result of writing the way we speak in everyday life. The problem with this is that people don’t want to be told things they already know, they want to read what you have to say because it is exciting, and lets them see the world (whether this one, or a world you created) in a fresh, new way in which they’ve never seen something before. The hard part is giving them that fresh new take on the world.

One great technique to eradicate clichés is to use them—but not as they are. Take the cliché that is giving you problems, and change it to make it surprising and different; something the reader can’t see coming. Something that makes it your own. Here are a few examples:

“Her face fell” could become “His words shoved the smile right off of her cheeks.”

“Fear was gripping her” could become “Fear embraced her like a small child who refused to let go.”

And “She was getting all bent out of shape” could become “Her rage peaked at a new high, forcing all other emotion from her body and bending her once soft demeanor into a callous giant.”

Actions and reactions can also be cliché. Something scary happens when the storm begins, or a fight between lovers ends with a huge, sappy kiss. In those cases, do you really want your reader to know what will happen before they experience it on your page? I don’t think so. What is the point of reading? Throw in a few twists, lead them down one road, then force them to take another. Get past the mundane, and use your brain! As Nathanial Hawthorne once said, “Easy reading is damn hard writing.” You just have to have to keep trying until you get it right.