In previous posts, I’ve talked about a necessary ingredient in your novel (indeed, in all fiction): conflict. So what should the conflict be? Sometimes it’s obvious, for example your novel on star-crossed lovers. Other times it may not be.

When you think about your next novel, you start with a hazy picture in your mind. In fact, the conflict may be the first thing you see: a couple loses their only child because of a doctor’s (perceived) incompetence. With that you can construct characters. Clearly you need a man and a woman. And maybe a boy or girl. Oh, the doctor. Maybe a lawyer or two. Throw in a judge. Starting with the conflict opens up whole new vistas.

Ah, but perhaps you’re writing your next romance novel. The characters are standard: a (few) women and an irresistible man (or two). But hasn’t every possible romance novel been written? Hmph. You’re stumped for an appropriate conflict. After all, the whole point of a novel is to Read more…

Writing: Characterization, Writing: Dialog, Writing: Plotting, Writing: Style

I haven’t put a post up for the last couple days because I’ve been deeply involved in writing a proposal for my day job. Pondering this, I think the similarities between writing a good novel and writing a good proposal are striking. A proposal has to be very clear to the reader. Any ambiguities can create problems later. I have to be very clear about what I’m proposing, under what conditions I’ll do the job, exactly what is in scope for the job and what is out of scope, and what cooperation I need from my customer to enable me to complete the job. And, the proposal may contain conditions that must be met before I’ll start work.

Similarly, when writing your novel you may be putting some conditions on what you will deliver. For example, if you are writing through the voice of a narrator, the narrator may have Read more…

Writing: Business, Writing: Style

When I write a scene, I’m writing down what I’ve already imagined. In fact, I live my novels! I’ve thought through the scene as though I were there as one of the participants. I see it, feel it, smell it, taste it, and hear it. Then my job is to get enough of that down on paper so the reader can follow my train of thought.

Many scenes in my novels are set locally. Locally means Ouray County in the Colorado Rockies. And, yes, I take a bunch of photographs. In fact, I’ll stand on the spot and take enough pictures that I have an entire 360-degree view! With digital cameras, there’s no limit. In fact, a scene in the second Flying Broomstick book is set in Mesa Verde National Park, not terribly far from here. So, I hopped on my motorcycle and made the trip. On the way I made note of the terrain over which my characters would fly, picking up such details as numerous trees killed by beetle infestation, the recovery of some land from a fire, the tunnel, etc. I took dozens of photos. But remember: use these photos as reminders, not as a complete record of your visit.

Now here’s the rub. Photos only record Read more…

Writing: Plotting, Writing: Style

You’ve honed your characters and written their bios and let their backstories consume your daydreams. The conflict is palpable. The plot is moving forward. But you’ve rewritten your scene to the point of wearing out your keyboard, and it still doesn’t work!

What might not work? Here are some possibilities: A character is out of character, for example old miser Don suddenly becomes a delightful counselor and a shoulder to lean on. That doesn’t work. Maybe the setting is wrong: you want a sunset on the beach but your story is set on the East Coast. Or your hero, who has a serious heart condition, is throwing things in a screaming rage, but his heart attack doesn’t come for another 100 pages.

If you keep honing that scene you’ll get an ever-more lovely description of a scene that doesn’t Read more…

Writing: Characterization, Writing: Style

It’s true that fiction has to make sense, whereas real life doesn’t. You’re asking your reader to willingly suspend disbelief and take your story at face value. Sure, they’ll let you colonize Mars. Or they’ll buy a new breed of dogs that can walk on water. Talking squirrels. That’s all fine. But if your make-believe world doesn’t hang together conceptually, you’ll lose your reader.

Even when you throw in some strange plot twist, your reader must say, “I didn’t expect that, but now you mention it, it makes sense.”

And how’s that going to happen? You do it with foreshadowing. What’s that? You must plant clues so that your reader is prepared. They don’t have to be big clues—in fact, the more subtle the better (but not so much as to pass unnoticed).

Here’s an example of foreshadowing:

Mary rifled through the letters on her elderly father’s desk, looking for bills he hadn’t yet paid. She worried he was succumbing to Alzheimer’s more rapidly than the doctor had predicted. Electric bill—unpaid. Gas bill—same. And so on with a his Visa account and trash collection. She sighed, wondering if now was the time to talk to him about entering a nursing home. Three of the envelopes were not bills, but appeared to be letters from old friends, and another was from a Masonic Lodge he’d been a member of many years before. Mary smiled at memories of being a Job’s Daughter as a teen. She stuffed the bills into her purse, left the letters on his desk and dropped the Masonic note on top. Looking around for any last-minute chores and seeing none, she turned out the light and pulled the door shut softly behind her.

Ok, what’s being foreshadowed here? Read more…

Writing: Style

How do you like this:

Hank walked into the living room where Mary was serving breakfast. He spoke to Mary as he wolfed down his eggs.

Compared to this:

Mary heard Hank’s familiar footsteps as he entered the brightly lit kitchen. She pulled the sizzling pan off the stove and pushed the bacon onto a plate, concerned it smelled just a bit burned. Hank pulled back the curtains and looked out at his wife’s petunias, just now flowering with the first red and blue blossoms. He offered his morning greetings before he let go of the curtains, and when he turned to face her, she was smiling and whistling slightly. She put his plate on the table, the eggs still steaming. She came up behind him and put her arms around his chest and kissed his neck just where his hair was shortest. She could smell his shampoo. He reached up to touch her at the same time he spooned salsa on the eggs, trying this time not to overdo it.

What’s the difference? Well, not much happens in the first instance. We learn that Hank eats quickly and that he talks with his wife.

But in the second, we tickle all five Read more…

Writing: Style

To whom are you writing? To kids? Retirees? Ham radio operators? There’s one thing they all have in common.

No one likes being talked down to.

Treat your audience as an equal. That means assume they are smart people and can remember what you tell them. Even kids!

When you reveal new information, you need do it only once. If you don’t refer to it again until the end of the book, you may insert a quick reminder, such as “Eunice, Ron Storter’s evil sister, said…” Read more…

Writing: Style

One piece of advice you’ll get from everyone concerns sentence length. A long sentence is long, therefore it must meander, therefore you aren’t really sure what you want to say. Short sentences are short. Really short. Short! (And therefore non-fattening and good for you.)

What difference does it make? Why should you care?

In general (and note that caveat well!), longer sentences convey a sense of ease or comfort. When the narrator can speak in long sentences, he or she is not stressed. So go ahead and put in your entire thought. In fact, if two sentences are closely related to the same idea, just put a semicolon between them; you may find this keeps things together. Or, if you’re trying to tell your reader something then do this: use a colon and spell it out! And, quite frankly, Read more…

Writing: Style

One critique I get at all writing workshops is that I use parentheses too much. In fact, one critiquer, an excellent writer, commented that reading my work was like shoveling snow off a walk–every so often he hits an uneven spot in the sidewalk and it forces him to come to a halt. I suppose it’s possible to have too many (though I’m not sure). Oops–I just did it!

So why do I insert all those parenthetical comments into the books in the Broom series? I think the simplest explanation is that the writing style is completely informal. One fan wrote that she could imagine herself in my living room, sitting in front of the fire, listening to me tell the story in my own words. I must be succeeding, because that’s exactly what I aimed for.

I’m not alone in using parentheses. In fact, I’m in good company. No less a publication than the Economist uses them regularly. Read more…

Writing: Punctuation, Writing: Style