Thematic Words of Wisdom

Theme confronts Brody in “Jaws.”

Theme is something writers can wrestle with in their novels, or ignore entirely and just focus on creating a cracking good read. I aim to write engrossing novels, but I also want to deliver a story with a deeper meaning. Becoming aware of a potential theme in a novel I’m working on can help with that.

I’ve been reading screenwriter Jeffrey Schecter’s My Story Can Beat Up Your Story, and his take on theme hit home. He sees the hero asking a “thematic question,” while the confident villain states a “thematic argument.”

One of the examples he provides is from Jaws. Sheriff Brody wonders if he and his family will ever fit in Amity while the great white shark embodies the argument that “an outsider will never be accepted on the island.” The question and the argument do battle in the second half of Act II (or Act III if you’re a four act structure writer), climaxing in the final act in what Schecter calls a “thematic synthesis.” In Jaws, that synthesis is Brody realizing “that he can be accepted into a community only if he is willing to sacrifice all for the community.” Schecter’s laying out the thematic arc for a story was a light bulb moment for yours truly.

With this in mind, today’s Words of Wisdom looks at three posts from the TKZ archives for more insight about theme, courtesy of Kathyrn Lilley, Nancy Cohen and James Scott Bell.

Before there was story structure–before there were even novels—there was theme. A story’s theme is the fundamental and universal idea behind its plot. In King Lear, for example, one of its themes is authority versus chaos.

But to me, a novel’s theme is not merely the abstract principle behind the plot; I believe that you have to bring a story’s theme to life through its characters. Ideally, several of the major characters should portray a variation on the underlying ideas that inform the story. Those characters will reflect the light and depths of your theme, the way the facets of a diamond show off its hidden fire.

In A Killer Workout, the second installment in the Fat City Mysteries, I created a “Mean Girls” theme. I wrote several different characters to illustrate that underlying idea. One character had been victimized by bullies in her youth–another was herself a bully. Still another character had grown up to become a protector of abused young women. Through each of these women’s stories and backgrounds, I explored the ideas of bullying, emotional abuse, and “mean girls” in various ways.

I use my characters to do a “360” exploration of the theme of each of my novels. The secondary characters’ experiences in terms of the theme are usually more intense and extreme than my protagonist’s. They act as “theme foils,” and they also propel her journey through the plot.

Kathryn Lilley—April 20, 2009

Another book club member, an English teacher, had this to say:

“On our tests, students are given a passage to read and then asked to explain the author’s intent. I once asked an author if they knew the theme of their story before they wrote it, and their answer was no. They write the story as it comes. How about you?”

“My intent is to entertain,” I said. “That’s it. I want to give my readers a few hours of escape from their mundane routine and all the bad news out there. My goal is to write a fast-paced story that captures their attention.”

And this is true. I’ve had a writer friend who is a literature professor look at my work and find all sorts of symbolism. Excuse me? I had no idea it was there. Must have been subconscious. I do not set out to sprinkle meaningful symbols related to a theme into my story content. I just write the book.

However, I do know what life lesson my main character has to learn by the end of the story. This is essential for character growth and makes your fictional people seem more real. Usually, I include this emotional realization in my synopsis or plotting notes. It doesn’t always turn out the way I’d planned. Sometimes, this insight evolves differently as I write the story. Or maybe a secondary character has a lesson to learn this time around.

For example, in the book I just finished, I have a couple of paragraphs in my notes under the heading, “What does Marla learn?” Now maybe these lessons could be construed as the book’s theme, but I did not consult these going forward to write the story. To be so analytical would have stopped me dead. Fine arts grad students can pay attention to these details, but I have to write the book as it unfolds. So did I meet the intent that I’d originally set out for my character? Yes, in some respects I covered those points. But do they constitute the main theme of my work? Only my readers will be able to tell me the answer to that question. I can’t see it for myself.

Nancy Cohen—January 28, 2015

I can’t recall who it was, but one novelist said, “A writer should have something on his mind.”

That something is the theme, or meaning, of a story. It is the moral message that comes through at the end. The noted writing teacher William Foster-Harris believed that all worthy stories can be explained as an exercise in “moral arithmetic.” In The Basic Formulas of Fiction he expressed it thus:

            Value 1 vs. Value 2 = Outcome

For example, Love vs. Ambition = Love. In other words, the value of love overcomes in the struggle against ambition. If one were writing a tragedy, the outcome would be the opposite, with ambition winning out at the cost of love.

This is true even if you write without a fleeting thought about theme. Your story willhave one, whether you’re conscious of it or not.

Each story has only one primary theme, which can also be stated as “Value X leads to Outcome Y.” James N. Frey says in How to Write a Damn Good Novel: “In fiction, the premise [or theme] is the conclusion of a fictive argument. You cannot prove two different premises in a nonfiction argument; the same is true for a fictive argument. Say the character ends up dead. How did it happen? He ended up dead because he tried to rob the bank. He tried to rob the bank because he needed money. He needed money because he wanted to elope. He wanted to elope because he was madly in love. Therefore, his being madly in love is what got him killed.”

So, “mad love leads to death” is the theme.

It is crucial, however, to realize that theme is played out through the characters in the story. In high school my son was tasked with a book report. He read (at my suggestion) Shane, the classic Western by Jack Schaeffer. One of the questions on his report sheet was to state the theme. He asked me for help, because he had never thought about books this deeply before.

With a little prodding, he was able to see that the homesteaders represented civilization, while the ranchers who hire gunmen represent brutality and lawlessness. Shane, of course, is the enigmatic figure who helps this moral equation become: “Civilization (a community of shared values) can overcome the forces of lawlessness.”

Look to the characters and what they are fighting for, and you will find the theme of your story.

But there is a common problem writers face when they have “something on their minds.” And that is simply that they often begin with a theme and try to force a story into it. This can result in a host of issues, among them:

  • Cardboard, one-dimensional characters
  • A preachy tone
  • Lack of subtlety
  • Story clichés

The way to avoid these is to remember: Characters in competition come before theme.

Always.

Develop your characters first—your hero, your villain, your supporting cast—and set them in a story world where their values, aims, and agendas will be in conflict. Create scenes where the struggles is vivid on the page.

Yes, you can have a theme in mind, but make it as wispy as a butterfly wing, and subject to change without notice. If you write truly about the characters, following the wants, needs, and desires, you’ll begin see the theme of your story emerge. At first it may be like the faint glow of a miner’s lamp deep in a dark cave. You may not have full illumination until the end, but it will be there.

So give your characters full, complex humanity, and then a passionate commitment to their own set of values. Even the villain. No, especially the villain. All villains (or antagonists) think they are right, and they are the drivers of the plot.

James Scott Bell—August 13, 2023

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  1. Do you think about your novel’s theme?
  2. What’s your approach to theme? Do you discover it before beginning your novel, or after you’ve drafted it?
  3. How much does your theme grow out of your characters?

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This is my final post of 2025. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season filled with light and life. I’ll see you in the new year.

From Cockpit to Keyboard: What ‘Aviate, Navigate, Communicate’ Teaches Novelists

Never wait for trouble. —Chuck Yeager

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 “Aviate. Navigate. Communicate.”

When I was taking private pilot lessons, my instructor drilled this three-word phrase into me in every lesson as essential to successful flying. Although you need to keep all three of these skills in mind and not fixate on any one of them, there is a priority order.

Aviate. Fly the plane. This is always first. The pilot must maintain the altitude, airspeed, and position in the air (attitude). Things can get busy in the cockpit, and a mechanical failure or some other unanticipated issue can divert a pilot’s attention from simply flying the plane. The Society of Aviation and Flight Educators notes:

A famous example of failure to follow the established aviation priorities is the crash of Eastern Airlines Flight 401. In December 1972, the crew of a Lockheed L-1011 TriStar became focused on the malfunction of a landing gear position indicator light for the nose gear. The plane subsequently descended into the Everglades northwest of Miami, killing 101 of the 176 people on board (two people died more than seven days after the accident).

Navigate. When you’re flying an aircraft, you need to know where you are and where you’re going. Whether the pilot is navigating or there’s a separate navigator onboard, their job is to monitor the flight and make adjustments as needed to get the plane to its destination. Mistakes in navigation can lead to loss of situational awareness and accidents.

Communicate. Air Traffic Control is the pilot’s friend. They direct flights to keep safe distances between planes and provide instructions for safe takeoffs and landings. Pilots communicate with ATC using protocols that must be followed or the communication fails. For example, the English language is the standard established by the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) to ensure safety and clear communication. On initial contact with ATC, the pilot uses the “4 W’s” (who you’re calling, who you are, where you are, what you want).

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From Cockpit to Keyboard

It seems like everything I do relates back to writing these days. Fortunately, a failure in the writing process isn’t as dangerous as in flying, but we might be able to map Aviate, Navigate, Communicate onto the writer’s job. Here’s a simplified look at the process:

Aviate: Write the book. Keep it moving forward. Don’t decide to clean out that closet once again because you’re looking for an excuse to avoid writing. And don’t rewrite Chapter One for the fortieth time to get it just right. TKZers: How do you keep moving forward? Do you allocate a certain number of words or hours per day to your work? How long does it take you to write a novel? 

Navigate: While you’re writing, keep an eye on where you’re going. Does each scene move the story forward, or are you getting bogged down in unnecessary subplots or long, boring backstory? TKZers: How do you avoid getting off course when writing?

Communicate: Editors, critique partners, and beta readers are the author’s friends. Use their input to revise and polish the story. Clear communication will enable the author to make the necessary changes. TKZers: What types of communication do you use to improve the final product?

* * *

So TKZers: Do you use a method like “Aviate, Navigate, Communicate” to complete your novels? Tell us about it.

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Knights in Manhattan begins on a flight that has encountered rough air. But there may be more turbulence inside the cabin than outside the airplane.

Click the image to go to the Amazon book page.

Building a Mystery

For years, my library colleagues would ask when I was going to write that library mystery. Afterall, I read mysteries, was a writer, and worked at library, so it seemed like a natural fit to them. While I thought about it I continued writing fantasy and science fiction.

Finally, in 2020, after I’d retired from the library, the desire to write a cozy library mystery novel grabbed me. As I finished the final novel in my Empowered series, I read a bunch more mysteries of all sorts, from Matthew Scudder to more Agatha Christie to Sara Rosett’s Murder on Location cozy series.

I also read books on writing mysteries: Mystery Writers of America’s How to Write a Mystery, How to Write Killer Fiction by Carolyn Wheat, our own KZB alum Nancy Cohen’s Writing the Cozy Mystery, Sara Rosett’s How to Outline a Cozy Mystery Workbook, as well as her Teachable course on writing cozies. Sara’s course also included interviews with cozy mystery authors like Lynn Cahoon and Anna Castle. I discovered very useful handouts at Castle’s website from a workshop she gave on mystery writing.

I read more mysteries, and watched mystery TV series like Midsomer Murders, Elementary, Monk, the new Father Brown series, Perry Mason, and Columbo.

My published fantasy novels had crime and mystery elements, so writing an actual murder mystery should be a snap, right?

I wasn’t surprised it wasn’t that easy. I consider actual mystery novels to be one of the hardest types of fiction to write, and took the challenge seriously, which was a good thing. From the time I began outlining my first library cozy mystery, then called Death Due, until I published the final version, A Shush Before Dying, over two years had passed. I wrote three different versions, with numerous outlines. I did a deep dive into upping my revision game after finishing the first draft.

The second book in the series, Book Drop Dead came faster, being completed in year.

I’m an outliner, who, once upon a time, discovery wrote (AKA “pantsed”) his novels. For me, figuring out story structure was the secret that unlocked being able to create a story that worked. Mysteries were no different.

Cozy mysteries, like other mysteries, usually center around a murder. For me, that meant learning who the murderer was, and why they committed the crime, before outlining the book. I began each book by creating an electronic document file which became a novel journal where I could brainstorm about the mystery, the killer’s shadow story (something I learned from our own James Scott Bell), spin out the web of suspects, background notes, and simple outlines I could flesh out later.

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Mystery foundation

These make up the foundation of the mystery I’m building, and key to my process is asking myself questions about each.

Killer: Who and why? What lead them to kill, and why did they murder the victim? How do they react when they learn they are being investigated by our sleuth-hero?

The Victim: Often someone who is despicable in at least some of the time, and often at the center of a conflict, but they can be something other than a jerk—quirky perhaps, misunderstood, or even a good person who ran afoul of a killer. What was their relationship with the killer?

The setting: the location and community where the murder takes place. For my own cozy mystery, the setting was easy: the public library. I wanted the era to be the 1980s, when I began my at-first accidental career. This was the library before the Internet, when the card catalog ruled and staff used “dumb” terminals to check out books, stamping the date dues on a label on a page at the front of the book.

The public library then and now is a community in its own right, as well as a meeting ground for other communities, which provide opportunities for all sorts of situations and characters. How does the setting shape the murder, and the investigation?

The sleuth-hero: What pushes them to investigate the murder instead of leaving it to the police? Amateur sleuths are often nosy, curious, driven to solve puzzles. This describes my librarian-sleuth Meg Booker. The hero may be motivated to solve the crime because of personal concern if a friend is the suspect or survival if they themselves fall under suspicion.

In other cases, it may be the sense that thing about the murder doesn’t fit the facts as the police see them. The hero must have a reason to investigate and discovering that reason is vital. In cozy mystery the reason is often personal. The sleuth may have a connection to the victim, or to the person the police believe is the killer, as is the case in my first Meg Booker mystery.

The Web of Suspects:  For me an ideal number of suspects is five to seven. The motivations can be similar, but it helps build the mystery if at least some have different motives for murder. For instance, two suspects might both be rivals with the murder victim for a job promotion, while three more have possible motives unrelated to the day job.

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Plotting

The next thing I like to tackle is my story structure. I’m a fan of our own James Scott Bell’s signposts, such as the opening Disturbance, the Doorway to Act II, and especially the Mirror Moment. I brainstorm how the murder plays out, how the sleuth’s investigation begins and progresses, and what the killer does in response.

I’m an outliner, so I began putting the mystery into a beat outline, with sign posts marked and key scenes laid out. I’ll do additional brainstorming in a novel journal, a separate electronic document.

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The Arc of Suspicion

I also work out what I call “the arc of suspicion,” which is the sleuth-hero and readers progression in who they suspect committed the crime. I posted about this here. I’m going to crib from that earlier post and share the beats of the suspicion arc. I don’t necessarily write all these out, but keep them in mind as the story progresses, brainstorming as needed:

  1. The arc begins with noticing something is off about someone’s behavior, or a set of circumstances.
  2. Doubt ensues.
  3. Then, discovering “evidence” which increases suspicion. This can be an overheard conversation, reading a note or email, seeing a meeting without hearing what is being said, looking at a pattern of behavior, perhaps behavior out of character for the suspect, etc.
  4. Discovering a lie, or a false alibi can heighten suspicion.
  5. There can be a deepening fixation on a suspect’s behavior, words, deeds, and trying to figure out what they were thinking, why they did what they did, etc.
  6. Acting on that suspicion to the point of taking risks and putting yourself in potential jeopardy. This often precedes the confrontation/reveal in the final act of a mystery.
  7. Given that mysteries usually have multiple suspects, there will be a point where the sleuth (and the reader) rule out a person because of evidence, alibi, or learning what the secret was that made a particular individual act suspicious to the main character.
  8. Of course, heroes and readers often suspect more than one character at the same time, so the arcs can overlap. Sometimes the behavior or evidence is one thing, which leads to doubt about a particular person. Doubt which might deepen to suspicion or might simmer in the background. Or, even forgotten for the moment, until the end, when new evidence makes the sleuth suddenly suspect that person with a cold-in-the-bones feeling.
  9. Finally, the sleuth’s suspicions lead to the actual killer and/or can lead the killer to them.

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Drafting

As I write the first draft, I’ll come up with new ideas, clues etc., and, if they make the grade, will add them to my outline.

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Revision and feedback

Revision is where I work to fix plot holes, add missing clues, clarify motives if needed, along with the usual revision tasks of improving scenes, pacing, characterization, setting details etc. I then send the revised novel to my beta readers, who give me invaluable feedback on whether the mystery worked for them, where they were surprised, if they guessed the identity of the murderer, etc. I then make any additional changes based their feedback.

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The resources which helped me learn how to build a mystery

Nancy Cohen’s Writing the Cozy Mystery. Nancy’s book provides an instructive break down of the elements of a cozy mystery.

Sara Rosett’s How to Outline a Cozy Mystery. Rosett  gives the building blocks of a cozy mystery, as well as different outlining methods, tips on clues and red-herrings, conventions of cozies etc. While Rosett’s online course on writing a cozy mystery appears to be no longer available, the book still is.

Carolyn Wheat How to Write Killer Fiction. Wheat looks “the funhouse of mystery” as well as the “rollercoaster of thriller,” and reading the book gives a useful comparison between the two as well as the elements of each.

Hallie Ephron Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel. Ephron’s book is a deep dive into the elements of mystery, looking at plotting, characters, mystery, sense of place, revision, as well as advice on publishing, both traditional and self-publishing.

Mystery Writers of America How to Write a Mystery. A collection of essays by mystery masters also covers the different aspects of mystery fiction.

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So, this is how I build a mystery. If you write mysteries, what tips you do have?

Creatives Need Inner Peace

Today, let’s discuss a subject few writers talk about, yet it’s vitally important for creativity. I’m referring to inner peace. Without balance and harmony within us, doing any creative work becomes ten times more difficult. Fear, pressure, and stress cloud the mind. Silence the chaos and restore your center.

But how?

I’ll tell you a little secret. You already have the power within you. All you need to do is tap into it.

I rarely, if ever, expose personal struggles in public, but I’m hoping my story will help demonstrate my point. And maybe, you’re going through a similar period and will find comfort in knowing you’re not alone.

Without delving too deep into my personal life, I stood at a crossroad when I turned the age of my mother when she died, so I began the arduous journey of reflecting on my life. And tough questions emerged — If I died tomorrow, would I feel like I sold myself short? I answered yes. Did I take risks to ensure a happily ever after? No. I chose safety, security, and friendship over fulfillment, desire, and passion. I settled. And those were tough realizations for me.

Taking stock of one’s life isn’t an easy endeavor — it can be downright terrifying — but I do think it’s healthy and necessary from time to time. Personal growth doesn’t have an age limit, nor does happiness. Don’t let fear stop you. It’s NEVER too late to start over.

Anyway, there I stood, staring at the crossroad for a long while, weighing the pros and cons of each path. If I dared to choose the hard road, would I survive? A resounding yes bellowed from the heavens. What might be the repercussions of my decision? Those were a bit harder to accept, but I’ve lived long enough to know I shouldn’t have to forfeit anything to keep the peace. No one should.

And so, I headed down the hard road. My heart and soul wouldn’t allow me to choose otherwise.

Though I knew I made the right decision, uncertainty lingered about what the future might hold. I was alone for the first time in almost three decades. I knew where I wanted to end up, which was half the battle, but I wasn’t sure how to get there.

While I winded down the road rife with challenges, complications, and obstacles, I kept telling myself life would iron out the wrinkles on its own, that time was the great equalizer.

Turns out, I gave myself solid advice. One year later, I’m now in the final stages of buying my own home, complete with a barn, plenty of land for privacy, and a ready-made spot for an above-ground pool (I’ve always wanted a pool). Sunlight cascades through French doors, sliders, and oversized windows. The town exudes the feel of deep country, yet it’s close enough to civilization so grocery shopping doesn’t eat up an entire day. It’s perfect! Closing is in two weeks… just in time for the holidays. 😀

This past year wasn’t easy. Far from it. Moving twice in one year also sucks. This too shall pass. I’ll soon be in my forever home.

My point is, stress isn’t healthy for anyone. For writers, mental fatigue can stifle creativity. And sure enough, my ability to create took a massive hit. I could edit and rewrite without issue, but my well of new ideas almost ran dry.

As someone who rarely took more than one or two days off in a row, not creating affected my mood, which led to not wanting to market my books or socialize online. Hence my spotty appearance on social media and in the comment section of blogs.

Even now, I’m often the last person to comment… sometimes days later. I’ve learned to be kind to myself. The real world offers me so much happiness and wonder, the virtual world has taken a backseat. Once I complete my move, I’ll get back to my regular routine. It’s a must.

As a double Libra (sun and moon), I crave balance and harmony. It’s at the core of who I am as a person.

While I was still trying to adjust to my new life, one day I stopped — blocked out everything and everyone — and sat in silence, with nothing but the sweet song of serenity from the Natural World. After several deep breaths, I tapped into the power of healing energy within me.

I remembered who I am — a freakin’ warrior, with an unquenchable zest for life, who has survived and thrived and would never settle for mediocre — and a weight lifted. I could breathe again without feeling like I was suffocating. Or drowning in a sea of “good enough.”

It’s amazing what the simple act of intentional breathing can do for inner peace. We’ve talked about it before. The “Relaxation Response” (RR) is a physiological and psychological state opposite to the fight-or-flight response. RR therapy includes meditation, yoga, and repetitive prayer, and has been practiced for thousands of years. These stress-reducing practices counteract the adverse clinical effect of stress in disorders like hypertension, anxiety, insomnia, and aging.

Research on the underlying molecular mechanisms of why it works remained undetermined until a 2017 study unearthed a fascinating discovery. Both short-term and long-term practitioners of meditation, yoga, and repetitive prayer showed “enhanced expression of genes associated with energy metabolism, mitochondrial function…” and more efficient insulin secretion, which helps with blood sugar management. Relaxation Response also reduces the expression of genes linked to inflammatory responses and stress-related pathways. In simpler terms, controlled breathing helps boost the immune system and improves energy metabolism.

Good brain health and inner peace increases creativity. Creativity fuels inspiration. Inspiration ups the word count.

I want to share an amazing deep breathing exercise to unlock the power within you. The best part? It really works!

Set the first two fingers of your right hand between your eyebrows. With your thumb, block your right nostril. Inhale through your left nostril. Pause. Release your thumb and block your left nostril with your ring finger. And exhale. Pause at the end. Inhale through your left nostril. Pause. Exhale out your right nostril. Repeat this cycle of alternating nostrils several more times (your call on how many).

When you exhale out your right nostril for the last time, lower your hand. Inhale a deep cleansing breath through both nostrils. Pause. Exhale out the mouth. This resets your normal breathing pattern.

If you’d prefer to learn this technique through guided meditation, find the video here.

With your eyes still closed, focus on your environment. Let sounds come to you. Don’t strain to chase them. If outside thoughts spring to mind, visualize setting them on a cloud and let them drift away. Stay in the moment. This exercise helps you regain focus.

What do you hear? Communication surrounds you. The Natural World is rarely silent, even in the city. Is the wind whispering? Trees vibrating? Birds singing? Chipmunks chattering? Is the friendly neighborhood crow calling to you? Or is he speaking to a family member? Stay in the moment and relax awhile.

A friend wrote an excellent series about self-care. The gist is to put yourself first for a change. The WIP, household chores, or that deadline can wait a few minutes. Inner peace is important. And you’ll be even more productive if you take good care of yourself, physically and mentally.

If you tried the deep breathing exercise, you might’ve noticed you had to concentrate on alternating your nostrils to maintain the rhythm. Afterward, when you focused on your environment and let intrusive thoughts float away on clouds, you triggered the brain again while maintaining a nice ’n easy breathing pattern.

Anytime we focus the brain while staying cognizant of the natural rhythms of our organs, we unleash the healing energy within us, from which a fountain of creativity flows. If you struggle to find the elusive “zone” while writing, or you have limited time to write, do this exercise before you begin. You’ll reach flow state easier and quicker.

Do you meditate? Engage in deep breathing exercises? What other techniques do you use to declutter the mind?

#WriteTip: The Stubborn Elephant

Writing a novel is a huge commitment. It takes time and consistency and perseverance from beginning to end.

Imagine, if you will, a rider on the back of a stubborn elephant. The rider is excited to head out on a new adventure, but the elephant wants no part of it. The rider tries everything to make the elephant move — coercion, threats, bribes, begging, and bargaining — but nothing works. The elephant refuses to budge. And rightfully so. They’re majestic animals, with thoughts and feelings and families who love them, not amusement rides.

The frustrated rider jumps off the elephant, tugs the reins, shoves him from behind. Nothing works. If a two-to-seven-ton animal doesn’t want to budge, good luck trying to change their mind.

What if I told you this same struggle continues to play out in a writer’s mind while drafting a novel?

It’s true. Our brains have two independently functioning systems responsible for completing tasks: the rational side and the emotional side.

The rider is rational.

The elephant is emotional.

When these two sides clash, the writer accomplishes nothing. They may work all day, but they’re spinning their wheels. It’s an awful feeling.

The rational rider is small and insignificant compared to the emotional elephant. We can lie to ourselves about fame and fortune or whatever the big dream is, but unless we’re emotionally invested in our goals, it’ll never happen. The field of broken dreams is littered with stubborn elephants.

Numerous scientists have studied productivity, and they all agree on one thing: Having fun makes us more productive.

Pro Tip: Don’t worry about your word count. If you keep checking to tally your words, you’ll add unnecessary stress. Enjoy the journey of crafting a storyline. Block out all distractions and have fun with your characters.

The closer the reward, the harder we work.

We live in a world of immediate gratification. It’s why we’re told to use a universal link for our books. No one wants to click twice.

The coffee drinker will buy more coffee when their loyalty card is about to run out. Why? To score a free coffee.

This behavior is known as the goal gradient hypothesis, first discovered in rats and other animals in 1932 by Clark Hull PhD. The same holds true for humans. The bigger the task (crafting a novel), the harder we must work to get the reward (a complete first draft) and the easier it is to give up.

Pro Tip: Break the WIP into small goals. “I will have one piece of chocolate when I finish this chapter.” By rewarding yourself for reaching smaller goals, it builds confidence and joy and momentum.

Making Visible Progress Improves Motivation

Researchers offered participants two types of loyalty cards: a ten-point card and a twelve-point card with the first two spots already stamped. Can you guess which one they chose?

Even though both cards required the participants to buy ten coffees, the twelve-point card was the clear favorite. Why? The two stamps created the illusion that the participants would receive a free coffee sooner. While the distance to the goal was the same, those stamps showed visible progress.

Visible progress boosts motivation.

Pro Tip: End every writing session mid-scene. Doesn’t matter if the words are flowing. Stop. The next morning, it’s much easier to finish a scene than stare at a blank page.

I play mind-games with myself all the time. Once I’ve written the final page of the manuscript, I mark it with *** and keep going. Everything after the asterisks becomes the hook for the next book. That way, I never start a new manuscript with a blank page.

Productivity Fluctuates Throughout the Day

Researchers found that memory, perception, and problem-solving skills fluctuate according to a person’s chronotype, the natural inclination for your body to sleep (i.e., early bird vs. night owl).

I’m most productive in the mornings and between 7 p.m. – 8 p.m. It’s strange, I know, but for some reason new ideas pop into my mind between those hours, so I write in Notes on my phone.

Consistency trains the brain.

Pro Tip: Take note of when you’re most productive during the day. If you can’t write at that time, train yourself to write at the second most productive time of day for you.

Surprising Facts Improve Learning and Memory

Moments of intellectual surprise can boost memory, curiosity, and make you a more effective learner. Also, those who are curious about the world — like writers — and learn on a regular basis (i.e., research) extend their longevity and lower their risk of brain-related diseases like Alzheimer’s or dementia.

A few fun facts that may surprise you:

  • Jays are not blue. There are no blue feathers in the Animal Kingdom. What we see is an optical illusion. Blue Jays are gray.
  • A Greenland shark born before Isaac Newton was still alive in 2020.
  • Polar Bears are not white. Though polar bear fur appears white, it’s actually transparent. Long hollow hair shafts reflect light much like ice does, making polar bears appear white or yellow. Beneath their thick coats, polar bears have black skin that absorbs the sun’s warmth. To a deer, polar bears look green.

Pro Tip: If you’re stuck, research other elements of the story. You might be surprised by what you find. Never stop learning.

All these actionable tips and tricks will help you move the elephant in the right direction.

First Draft Words of Wisdom

Whether we begin our story with the first draft, or outline before starting, we all have the first draft of our novel waiting for us. Today’s Words of Wisdom has three excerpts from posts giving advice on first drafts. Tosca Lee provides writing mindset help with her “#1 Rule of First drafts.”  Steven James lays out “Fiction Writing Keys for Non-Outliners” as one way to approach writing first drafts. Debbie Burke discusses “Outlining in Reverse” to help with revising your completed first draft.

The three posts are well-worth reading in their entirety, and, as always, are date-linked at the bottom of their respective excepts. I hope you’ll weigh in with your thoughts on these tips.

Eight novels in (ten, if you count the unpublishable ones), I have an instinct about the basic material I need to get down, more or less in order. More importantly, I have trust in the writing and editing process and faith that I can patch up the leaks—later.

For now, in the early stages, I’m only interested in one thing: getting the clay on the wheel. I trust that there are seeds in there—of things real, from me, that will resonate in another soul in months and years to come. I don’t know what they are yet and it’s not my business to force them into shape.

I have a few rules for this process but the first is the one I go back to every time, and it is this:

Write like no one will ever read it.

“But what about the audience? You have to think about them!” Forget them. Everything you do from your edits on will be about them. But for now, write with the candor you would in a secret journal. This isn’t about pantsing or plotting. It’s about capturing the grit you need without worrying that it’s pretty or eloquent or clean enough. Don’t be pretty. Be raw.

If you are an aspiring writer whose end goal is to be published, let me tell you something: you will never be as bold and daring as you are in those first years before your work gets published. Before critics post public reviews of your work and readers rank it alongside blenders on Amazon. Before even accolades usher their own kind of doubt into the next endeavor. This undiscovered period in your life is an advantage you won’t have twice. Use it.

These days, I have to trick myself into following this rule. I know my agent, editor, and a movie producer are waiting for my first draft. I want them to like it. Oh, who am I kidding—I want them to tell me it’s the best thing they’ve ever read, that they wept, told their therapist, and pre-ordered 100 copies for friends and distant acquaintances.

But the only way I will touch one cell of their soul is if I banish their faces from my mind. No one will read this. It is my mantra. This is me, writing secret stuff, dealing some audacious literary badassery in private. Time to edit, censor, and make coherent later. The good stuff happens now.

Tosca Lee—October 28, 2015

When people outline their stories, they’ll inevitably come up with ideas for scenes that they think are important to the plot, but the transitions between these scenes (in terms of the character’s motivation to move to another place or take a specific action) will often be weak.

Why?

The impetus to move the story to the next plot point is so strong that it can end up overriding the believability of the character’s choice in that moment of the story.

Read that last sentence again. It’s a key one.

Stated another way, the author imposes the plot onto the clay without letting it be shaped by the essential forces of believability, causality, and context.

You might have had this experience: you’re reading a novel and it feels like there’s an agenda to the story that isn’t dictated by the narrative events. This is a typical problem for people who outline their stories. Instead, listen to the story, and respond to where it takes you.

You can often tell that an author outlined or “plotted out” her story when you read a book and find yourself thinking things like,

◦ “But I thought she was shy? Why would she act like that?” 

◦ “I don’t get it. That doesn’t make sense. He would never say that.” 

◦ “What?! I thought she was . . . ?” 

◦ “Whatever happened to the . . . ? Couldn’t she use that right now?” 

◦ “I don’t understand why they’re not . . . ”

This happens when an author stops asking, “What would naturally happen next?” and starts asking, “What do I need to have happen to move this story toward the climax?”

The first question grows from the story itself, the second places artificial pressure on the story to do something that might not be causally or believably connected to the story events that just happened.

As soon as your character doesn’t act in a believable way, it’ll cause readers to ask, “Why doesn’t she just . . . ?” And as soon as that happens, they’re no longer emotionally present in the story.

As you learn to feel out the direction of the story by constantly asking yourself what would naturally happen next, based on the narrative forces that shape all stories, you’ll find your characters acting in more believable and honest ways and your story will flow more smoothly, contingently, and coherently.

Here’s one of the biggest problems with starting by writing an outline: You’ll be tempted to stick to it. You’ll get to a certain place and stop digging, even though there might be an awful lot of interesting dinosaur left to uncover.

Follow rabbit trails.

Forget all that rubbish you’ve heard about staying on track and not following rabbit trails.

Yes, of course you should follow them. It’s inherent to the creative process. What you at first thought was just a rabbit trail leading nowhere in particular might take you to a breathtaking overlook that far eclipses everything you previously had in mind for your story.

If you’re going to come up with original stories, you’ll always brainstorm more scenes and write more words than you can use. This isn’t wasted effort; it’s part of the process. Every idea is a doorway to the next.

So, where to start? Put an intriguing character in a challenging situation and see how he responds. Sometimes he’ll surprise you in how he acts, or demand a bigger part in the story.

And sometimes a random character will appear out of nowhere and vie for a part in the story.

Steven James—November 3, 2014

Like a building, a finished story almost never corresponds to the initial idea. That’s why I don’t outline before writing that initial draft of discovery.

However, once the first draft is finished, I create an outline in the form of as-builts. That’s where the pantser’s errors and oversights show up. And, believe me, there will be plenty.

Oops, I forgot to install reinforcing bars before I poured the slab. Without rebar, the foundation cracks and sags. Gotta jackhammer up the concrete and start over.

Darn, I forgot to include a door that connects the kitchen and the dining room. Better get out the reciprocating saw and cut an opening in that solid wall.

Wow, the shingles on the roof look beautiful…except some of the trusses underneath are missing. The first snowfall causes the whole thing to collapse. Drat.

You get the idea.

Dennis Foley, novelist/screenwriter/educator extraordinaire, introduced me to the concept of “as built” outlines in fiction. He recommends writing in three steps:

  1. Think it up;
  2. Write it up; 
  3. Fix it up.

Pantsers feel strangled if we try to adhere to a formal outline during the initial draft. We’d much rather give free rein to our imaginations during Steps 1 and 2.

But, eventually, all that unfettered creativity needs to be organized. Step 3, the “fix it up” stage, is the time to create an “as built” outline.

Outlining in reverse points out structural problems with the plot: events that are out of order, a character who shows up simultaneously in two different places, missing time periods that must be accounted for, lapses in logic, etc. Once those glitches are repaired, the story becomes a coherent sequence of rising complications that ultimately delivers a satisfying climax.

My WIP, Lost in Irma, takes place in Florida during Hurricane Irma in September, 2017, a catastrophe that left 17 million people without electricity. The story covers a two-week period during and after the storm and had to adhere to actual events in the order that they occurred.

The main characters, Tawny Lindholm and Tillman Rosenbaum, are visiting Tillman’s high school coach, Smoky Lido, in New Port Richey when Irma hits. During the height of the storm, Smoky disappears. Tawny and Tillman spend the rest of the book trying to find him. Is he dead or alive? Did he flee because of gambling debts? Was he abducted by thugs he owed money to? Or did he vanish into the storm to commit suicide?

Hurricane-related emergencies overwhelmed law enforcement, leaving Tawny and Tillman on their own to look for Smoky. Power blackouts, gasoline shortages, and unreliable cell service were integral to the plot. They couldn’t make phone calls or search the internet. If they drove, they risked getting stuck in floodwaters or running out of gas.

To pin down significant events on the dates they actually happened, I printed out a blank calendar from September 2017.  I filled in the squares with factual information like: what time did Irma hit New Port Richey (late Saturday night, early Sunday morning); what time did the power go out there (around midnight); when did the Anclote River flood (Tuesday)?

What goes into the as-built outline?

Timelines: The chronology of events is important to nail down correctly which is why I use the calendar technique above.

Scene by scene outline – This traces major characters and plot developments. What day is it? What time is it? Where are they? What action happens?

Debbie Burke—March 3, 2020

***

  1. What’s your own #1 rule when writing a first draft?
  2. What do you think of Steven James’s advice? Do you follow “rabbit trails” when drafting?
  3. Do you outline your completed first draft to help with revision? If so, do you have any advice?

Writing for Children

When you’ve spent your entire career writing adult thrillers and true crime, switching to a children’s chapter book takes some getting used to. Jumping back and forth between the two is even more difficult. After struggling with both projects, I decided to stick with one till completion, then finish the other.

Because my chapter book is meticulously outlined and half-written, I chose to concentrate on that project first. Plus, a chapter book’s optimal range is 10,000 words — a fraction of the word-count of an environmental thriller.

When I read the opening sequence of my chapter book, it seemed too advanced for young readers. I needed to stop, home in on my target age group, and relax the language and pacing. After all, early readers don’t have the same mental acuity as adults. They need easier wins.

Children’s books are separated into three categories, all with different guidelines for word choices, pacing, viewpoints, and the amount and style of illustrations.

  • Picture books
  • Chapter books
  • Middle Grade

Picture Books

A standard picture book is 32 pages long.

Picture books follow a compact story arc with a beginning, middle, and end. Jump into the action quickly, introduce a problem, and have the main character solve it by the end. The “rule of three,” where a problem recurs three times before a solution is found, is a common and effective technique. Illustrations will convey much of the emotion and setting, so your text should focus on the action and dialogue. Avoid using words to describe what the illustrations show. A picture book is meant to be read aloud, so the language needs to have a natural rhythm and flow.

Ages 3-5: Around 500 words, these stories have simple language and relatable topics like starting school, picky eaters, or a nighttime routine. Illustrations consume the pages—big, bright, and fun.

Ages 4-8: These picture books can be slightly longer, up to 800 words, with a slightly more complex plot. Still, you’re limited, because the illustrations take center stage.

As a visual medium, the writer must consider how the story will unfold across two-page spreads.

Chapter Books

To write a chapter book, you need to develop relatable characters, create a simple yet engaging plot, and break the story into short, purposeful chapters that build a new reader’s confidence. A typical chapter book is aimed at the 7-10 year age group and has a word count between 5,000 and 15,000 words. The sweet spot is 10,000. This allows the writer more freedom than a picture book.

Chapter books fall between early readers and middle-grade novels. The target audience is a new independent reader who’s often supervised by an adult. A solid, unique story idea is the foundation of a successful chapter book—especially since many are written as a series—that includes the main plot and core theme(s).

If you include an ill-advised subplot, be careful not to divert focus from the main plot. The young reader is just beginning to get comfortable reading on their own. Making the story easy to understand and follow is essential. Sure, many chapter books are read aloud to an adult, but don’t rely on that. What if the child is reading alone?

A chapter book must have a full narrative arc. If you watch a plethora of animated films, you’ll see they’re all structured like an adult novel or movie. And so, that’s exactly what I did. The story should be action-packed with lots of dialogue to hold a new independent reader’s attention, but never leave the main character and sidekick in trouble for long. A flip of the page is more than enough suspense.

Around 48-80 pages, chapter books often include black-and-white illustrations at the beginning of each chapter or where you want to show the new reader what’s going on. For example, when I introduce a new animal character, I’ll include an illustration to cement that picture in the reader’s mind. Because the illustration is in black-and-white, I need only mention color rather than a detailed description.

Middle Grade Novel

Most middle grade novels are geared toward ages 8-12. They are the in-between books for readers who have outgrown chapter books and are too young to emotionally handle or enjoy themes and ideas found in young adult novels. Middle grade novels run about 30,000-55,000 words.

Young readers need to relate to the characters, but they don’t mind “reading up.” Meaning, the main cast should be in the upper range of the target age group. For some reason, 13 and 14 year-old characters are considered a no-no. They’re too old for middle grade novels (perhaps due to puberty?) and too young to star in YA.

If you choose to write in this genre, you may want to read this article about middle grade novels. In it, the author includes an important distinction:

“What may work for an 8-year-old likely won’t work for a 12-year-old. So although we bundle it all into middle grade, the genre actually has two sub groups. This is important to understand in order to know your audience when writing, and thus appropriately adjust your themes and word count.

Two Sub-Categories

  • Lower Middle Grade

Lower middle grade novels tend to be read by kids aged 8 to 10 years old. There may be a sub plot or two, but the main plot will dominate the focus, and all themes will certainly be G or PG rated.

  • Upper Middle Grade

Upper middle grade novels can have a higher word count, and will be read by children aged 10 to 13 years old. There will likely be a subplot or two that help to carry the story in a substantial way. Themes may be a bit more complex, or PG or PG-13 rated.”

Even though I spent quite a bit of time researching techniques for my new target audience, I enjoy the challenge of writing a children’s chapter book. It’s rewarding, fun, and exciting.

Have you ever considered writing for children? Do you write children’s books now? If so, for what age group? Any tips to share? Categorize your favorite children’s book and tell us why you loved it as a child.

Words of Wisdom: Rules for Writers

Are there rules for writers? Some say yes, some say no, while some say rules are meant to be broken. I believe there are rules. Perhaps they are really more like guidelines, to paraphrase Hector Barbossa from Pirates of the Caribbean, but they are guidelines worth knowing and heeding. If there’s a good reason to break one, especially if it helps the story or unblocks you, by all means break it, but it helps to know the rule (guideline) first.

Today’s Words of Wisdom dives into the TKZ archives to find an intriguing grab bag of rules. Joe Moore lays out the rules of writing, with humor, wit and more than a little wisdom. I share the first fifteen on his list, and it’s worth clicking on the date-link at the bottom of this excerpt to read the other nineteen.

Next, John Gilstrap gives us his “Ten Rules for Manuscript Evaluation,” thoughtful advice on how to approach a manuscript you plan on submitting for feedback at a conference. His first five rules are included in this excerpt, and again it’s worth clicking on the date-link below to read all ten.

Finally, James Scott Bell looks at science fiction grand master Robert A. Heinlein’s “Five Rules for Writers,” and provides commentary on each. Here too it’s worth clicking on the link to read his full commentary.

Who said there are no rules for writers? Of course there are:

  1. Verbs HAS to agree with their subjects.
    2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
    3. And don’t start a sentence with a conjunction.
    4. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
    5. Avoid clichés like the plague.
    6. Also, always avoid annoying alliteration.
    7. Be more or less specific.
    8. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (usually) unnecessary.
    9. Also too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
    10. No sentence fragments.
    11. Contractions aren’t necessary and shouldn’t be used.
    12. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
    13. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it’s highly superfluous.
    14. One should NEVER generalize.
    15. Comparisons are as bad as clichés.

Joe Moore—December 17, 2008

Over the years, then, I have developed a list of Gilstrap’s Ten Rules for Manuscript Evaluation:

1. Number your pages and put your name or project title on every page. The reality is that I will lose your paper clip and I will drop your papers on the floor at least once. I don’t do this on purpose; it just always happens. Sometimes the pages get separated in my briefcase. However it happens, jumbled papers are jumbled papers. It helps to know which ones belong to whom, and in what order.

2. Have confidence in Times New Roman 12-point type. Reducing the font size to sneak in more story does not slip past unnoticed. I recently participated in a conference where someone actually gave me 15 pages of double-spaced 8-point type. Ignoring the fact that it pissed me off, I literally could not read the text. While I like to think of myself as young, my eyes are marching toward old age.

3. For me to believe that your story has any hope of success, something must happen in the first two hundred words. That’s the length of my interest fuse. Billowing clouds, pouring rain and beautiful flowers are not action. Characters interacting with each other or with their environment is action.

4. If you insist on walking into the whirling propeller that is a prologue, check first to make sure that your prologue is in fact not your first chapter in disguise. Next check to verify that your prologue is truly for the benefit of the reader, and not a crutch for the writer who needs to dump a bunch of backstory so that the first chapter will make sense.

5. Ten pages are plenty. Actually, five pages are plenty, but I understand that conference organizers can tout the larger number more easily. In my experience, unless dealing with a journeyman writer, the sins committed in the first few pages are replicated throughout. It’s rare that I discover a new issue on page thirteen or fifteen that hasn’t been noted several times previously.

John Gilstrap—July 22, 2011

Robert A. Heinlein’s “Five Rules for Writers.” They are as follows:

Rule One: You must write.

Rule Two: You must finish what you start.

Rule Three: You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.

Rule Four: You must put it on the market.

Rule Five: You must keep it on the market until it has sold.

I’d like to offer my commentary on this list.

Rule One: You must write.

Pretty self-evident. You can’t sell what you don’t produce. The writers of Heinlein’s era all had quotas. Pulp writers like W. T. Ballard and Erle Stanley Gardner wrote a million words or more a year. Fred Faust (aka Max Brand) wrote four thousand words a day, every day. They did so because they were getting a penny or two a word, and they needed to put food on the table.

I always advise writers to figure out how many words they can comfortably write in a week, considering their other obligations. Now up that number by 10% and make that the goal. Revise the number every year. Keep track of your words on a spreadsheet. I can tell you how many words I’ve written per day, per week, per year since the year 2000.

Rule Two: You must finish what you start.

I remember when I finished my first (unpublished, and it shall stay unpublished) novel. I was still trying to figure out this craft of ours and knew I had a long way to go. But I learned a whole lot just from the act of finishing. It also felt good, and motivated me to keep going.

Heinlein was primarily thinking about short stories here, so the act of finishing was an easier task. With a novel, there’s always a moment when you think it stinks. When you wonder if you should keep going for another 50k words. Fight through it and finish the dang thing. Nothing is wasted. At the very least you’ll become a stronger writer.

Should a project ever be abandoned? If you’ve done sufficient planning and have the right foundation, I’d say no. If you’re a pantser … well, the temptation to set something aside is more pronounced. But you chose to be a panster, so deal with it.

Rule Three: You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.

This is a bad rule if taken at face value. Again, Heinlein was thinking about the short story market. With novel-length fiction, the old saw still applies: Writing is re-writing.

I’ve heard a certain #1 bestselling writer state that he only does one draft and that’s it. Upon closer examination, however, that writer is revising pages daily as he goes, so it comes out to the same thing—re-writing.

As for “editorial order,” Heinlein meant that once a story sold—which meant actual payment—you made the changes the editor wanted (that is, if you wanted him to send you the check!)

For all writers, a skilled editor or reliable beta readers give us an all-important extra set of eyes. Don’t skip this step. There’s always something you need to fix!

James Scott Bell—December 11, 2018

***

There you have it, three different sets of rules for writers. Do you believe that there are rules for writers? Do any of these resonate with you? What rules have you broken, and if so, why?

Fluff, Flab, and Filler

Canada wildfires are affecting the air quality in my area. The National Weather Service wrote, “acceptable; however, the air quality may pose a moderate health concern for a very small number of individuals.”

Strange statement, considering three out of four of my closest friends feel like they have a sinus infection or head cold. I wouldn’t classify 75% as a “very small number of individuals.” Also, who writes for the National Weather Service? Can’t be a professional writer, or “very small” wouldn’t be the term they used.

Substitutes for “very small”

  • Tiny
  • Minuscule
  • Minute
  • Few
  • Diminutive
  • Limited
  • Trifling
  • Teensy-weensy
  • Slight

The subject of fluff arose last week while I was reading a brand new writer’s partial manuscript, including a prologue that was all backstory—important for her to know but irrelevant to the reader.

Rather than teach her how to tighten her writing, I focused on scene structure and techniques to force her characters to do something, anything. After several pages of notes, the fluff conversation could wait. The last thing I wanted was to obliterate a young writer’s dreams. Instead, I gave her a gentle nudge in the right direction.

For those farther along in their journey or career, recognizing fluff is an important subject. Those pesky buggers that sneak into first drafts and weaken our writing are better known as filler words and phrases aka fluff or flab.

If a filler word serves a purpose, such as to enhance characterization in dialogue, keep it. The objective is to tighten the writing by eliminating unnecessary words or phrases that might distract the reader.

Filler/Fluff/Flab Words 

Just

Just should almost always be deleted.

Original: I just couldn’t bear to say goodbye.

Rewrite: I couldn’t bear to say goodbye.

That

That litters many first drafts, but it can often be deleted without any harm to the original sentence.

Original: I believe that all writers should kill their darlings.

Rewrite: All writers should kill their darlings.

The original sentence has another problem. Did you catch it? Believe in this context is a telling word. Any time we tell the reader things like “I thought” or “He knew” or “She felt” or “I believe,” we slip out of deep POV. Thus, the little darling must die, as I did in the rewrite.

So

Original: So, this huge guy glared at me in the coffee line.

Rewrite: This musclebound, no-necked guy glared at me in the coffee line.

Confession: I use “so” all the time IRL. It’s also one of the (many) writing tics I search for in my work. The only exception to eliminating this, or any other, filler word is if it’s used with purpose, like as a character cue word.

Really

Original: She broke up with him. He still really loves her.

Sometimes removing filler means combining or rewording sentences.

Rewrite: When she severed their relationship, his heart weakened.

Very

We’ve established where the National Weather Service went wrong with very, but I’ll include it anyway.

Original: He made me very happy.

Rewrite: When he neared, my skin tingled.

Of

To determine if “of” is necessary read the sentence with and without it. Makes sense without it? Delete. Doesn’t? Keep it.

Original: She bolted out of the door.

Rewrite: She bolted out the door.

Up (following an action)

Original: He stood up tall.

Rewrite: He stood tall.

Down (following an action)

Original: He sat down on the sofa.

Rewrite: He sat on the sofa.

Want(ed)

Want/wanted are telling words. Rewrite to preserve deep POV.

Original: I really wanted the chocolate cake.

Substitute with a strong verb, such as: I drooled over the chocolate cake. One bite. What could it hurt?

Came/Went

Both are filler words because they’re not specific enough.

Original: I went to the store to buy my favorite ice cream.

Rewrite: I raced to Marco’s General Store to feed my craving for coffee ice cream.

Had

Too many had words give the impression the action took place prior to the main storyline. If it is used in a flashback, one had in the opening sentence signals the beginning, one at the end closes the scene. But if it’s clear the action occurred in the past, had can often be omitted.

Original: I had gazed at the painting for hours, waiting for the eyes to move.

Rewrite: For hours, I gazed at the painting. The eyes never moved.

Well (to start a sentence)

Original: Well, the homecoming queen attended the dance without the homecoming king.

Rewrite: The homecoming queen attended the dance, stag.

Literally/Basically

Original: I basically had to drag her out of the bar by her hair.

Rewrite: I dragged her out of the bar by her hair.

Original: I literally laundered money today. Still plucking bills from the lint filter.

Rewrite: I laundered money today. Still plucking bills from the lint filter.

Actually

Original: Actually, I did mind.

Rewrite: I minded.

Highly

Original: She was highly annoyed by his presence.

Rewrite: His presence infuriated her.

Totally

Original: I totally didn’t understand a word.

Rewrite: Huh? *kidding* I didn’t understand a word. Was that English?

And any other -ly adverb. Can you substitute with a strong verb or noun instead?

Anyway (to start a sentence)

Original: Anyway, I hope you laughed, loved, and lazed on your summer vacation.

Rewrite: I hope you laughed, loved, and lazed on your summer vacation.

Fluff Phrases

Most of these phrases should be omitted. If used for a purpose, like to enhance characterization with a catch phrase, feel free to keep it. Otherwise, delete. It’s even more important to eliminate fluff if you’re still developing your voice.

A bit

Original: The movie was a bit intense. Lots of blood.

Rewrite: Intense movie. Blood galore.

There is no doubt that

Original: There is no doubt that football season begins in the fall.

Rewrite: Football season begins in the fall.

The reason is that

Original: The reason is that I said you can’t go.

Rewrite: Because I said so, that’s why (shout-out to moms everywhere!).

The question as to whether

Original: The question as to whether the moon will rise again is irrelevant.

Rewrite: Whether the moon will rise again is irrelevant.

Whether or not

Original: Whether or not you agree is not my problem.

Or worse: Whether you agree or not is not my problem.

Rewrite: Whether you agree is not my problem.

This is a topic that

Original: This is a topic that is close to my heart.

Rewrite: This topic is close to my heart.

In spite of the fact 

Original: In spite of the fact that he said he loved you, he’s married.

Rewrite: Although he professed his love, he’s married.

Or: Despite that he claimed to love you, he’s married.

The fact that

Original: The fact that he has not succeeded means he cannot do the job.

Rewrite: His failure proves he cannot do the job.

In order to

Original: In order to pay bills online, you need internet access.

Rewrite: To pay bills online, you need internet access.

At the end of the day

Original: At the end of the day, we’re all human.

Rewrite: We’re human. Fallible.

Not gonna lie

This phrase irritates me, is overused by the younger crowd, and only raises questions.

  • Why would you lie? We’re having a friendly conversation.
  • Never considered you’d lie, but now I’m suspicious.

Original: Not gonna lie, that chocolate cake almost killed me.

Rewrite: That chocolate cake almost killed me.

I’ve joined the crowd affected by air pollutants from the wildfires. Please bear with me today. Not feeling my best. But don’t let that stop you from adding filler words & phrases I missed.

Progress and Practice

Progress and practice are essential to both improving our writing and succeeding in the sense of completing work and putting it out into the world, be it as a submission to an agent or publisher, or an indie-published work. But how do you break down the elements of progress and measure it? How do you restart your practice of writing when you’ve stalled out?

Today’s Words of Wisdom has you covered with excerpts of posts by Clare Langley-Hawthorne, Debbie Burke and James Scott Bell. The original posts are of course date-linked at the bottom of their respective excerpts.

A few weeks ago I spotted an article in the New York Times entitled ‘Micro-Progress and the Magic of Just Getting Started’ (you can read it here) and realized it was tailor made for us writers (especially after I’d seen a number of posts on my writing groups about writers writers feeling overwhelmed about their projects).

The idea of ‘micro-progress’ is simple: For any task you have to complete, break it down to the smallest possible units of progress and attack them one at a time.

In many ways, it’s an obvious concept. But what caught my eye, was the fact that studies had shown that micro-progress (or establishing micro-goals) can actually trick the brain into increasing dopamine levels, providing satisfaction and happiness. Sounds like the perfect plan for anyone facing the daunting prospect of completing a novel:)

Online I was seeing posts from people who felt overwhelmed by revisions, who were despairing that their novel had run aground mid way through, or who were experiencing chronic writer’s block and desperate for advice. In all of these situations, focusing on ‘micro-progress’ seemed a useful place to start.

The concept of ‘micro-progress’ has also helped me. I currently have a number of projects out on submission and a couple of ones with my agent – so it was time to start a new WIP. I faced a dilemma though – I had the first 50 pages of a YA novel that I’ve been noodling over (actually driving myself insane over is probably more apt) and yet I was concerned it still wasn’t quite ‘there yet’. I struggled with whether I really knew what the book was about (despite a synopsis and outline, mind you). So I decided it was best to put it aside and start a completely new project – yet at the back of my mind I still couldn’t quite let the old project completely die. Enter ‘Micro-Progress’!

I decided to use the advice in the NYT article and tackle both projects but with a different mindset. For the brand new WIP I’d sit down and get started in the usual way. I have the synopsis and outline so it was time to face the blank page and get writing. I’d focus on this everyday except Friday – when I’d allow myself to tackle the old project but with a ‘micro-progress’ approach. I’d just take it scene by scene in Scrivener and see what happened – without placing too much pressure on myself. The regular WIP could progress in the usual fashion – but for this one I’d be happy setting smaller, more manageable goals to see how it would all come together. In this way a ‘micro-progress’ mindset helped overcome my confidence issues as well my concerns about abandoning the project all together.

A ‘micro-progress’ mindset could be helpful in almost all our writing as it focuses on the smaller more manageable steps that can be taken. The evidence also seems to demonstrate that this approach can stimulate our brains, enabling us to continue, progress and feel a sense of achievement and satisfaction – rather than becoming overwhelmed by the totality of the task ahead. But I guess the key question is – TKZers – what do you think about ‘micro-progress’?

Clare Langley-Hawthorne—February 26, 2018

By now, you’re wondering if I’ll ever get to the point of this post.

This is it.

Writing has never been a profession that delivers immediate gratification.

Measuring one’s writing progress is tough to quantify. In a regular job, a paycheck every week or two proves the worker’s worth and skills.

In writing, months and years may go by without a “paycheck.”

Even when your career reaches a point where you receive advances and royalties, the income probably won’t support you in the style you’d like to become accustomed to.

If you can’t measure your writing progress in a tangible monetary way, how do you know if you’re improving?

Your best yardstick is yourself.

Look back at what you wrote six months ago, a year, five years, or 20 years ago. Have your skills improved? Have you learned new craft techniques?

Did a class or workshop change the way you create characters, or handle action scenes, or infuse emotion into your stories? Has your pacing improved? Did you head-hop in the past but now you’ve finally mastered point of view (POV)?

Do readers and other writers notice improvement in your work?

Do you waste less time floundering around trying to find a story? Do you have more focus and better concentration when you write? Do you feel more confident about showing your writing to others?

Do you have goals? Have you achieved some of them? Then do you set higher goals?

Writing is a ladder without end. No one knows everything about writing. We all need to work continuously to improve our craft, master more complicated skills, and produce more words.

Debbie Burke—May 23, 2023

My keyboard was getting cold. So I had to go back and re-establish some disciplines. Here they are:

  1. Plan the next day’s writing the night before

At night, when I’m always too spent to produce more, I take just a few minutes to think about what I’ll write tomorrow. Hemingway famously said he’d leave off writing midsentence, so he could take off running the next day.

So I think about the scene I’m going to write next. I give it some structure brainstorming: Objective, Obstacles, Outcome.

Then I’ll write one sentence. Just one. And that’s where I start when morning comes. Which brings me to tip #2:

  1. Sleep

We all know that good, restorative sleep makes a big difference in our daily lives. We also know sleep problems are rife, especially in the anxiety-inducing world we live in.

That’s why there’s a boom in sleep products. The most common ingredient is melatonin. I like to manage my melatonin naturally. I try to get ten to fifteen minutes of sunlight between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. (good for Vitamin D, too). I also try to keep off the blue light of phone and computer and TV screens before bed. If I do some computer or watch some TV, I wear yellow-tint glasses. This renders color movies or shows a bit, well, yellowish. But I can live—and sleep—with that.

Now here’s JSB’s secret tip for a good night’s sleep: Quercetin. I pop an 800mg tab half an hour before I hit the pillow. I no longer wake up in the middle of the night.

And here is an added benefit: Quercetin is an ionophore. That means it’s a molecule that helps your cells absorb good things, like zinc. Another ionophore is hydroxychloroquine. Remember the suppression of HCQ at the beginning of Covid? Don’t get me started on the political and medical malpractice of that. HCQ, like quercetien, helps the cells absorb zinc which, along with D, is the Praetorian Guard of the immune system.

Thus the adage “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Apples are a great source of quercetin. That’s why all those apple-egg-meat eating farmers never got sick.

  1. Write first thing in the morning

Well, second thing. First thing is make the coffee. Mrs. B and I spend devotional time together, so I get up earlier and knock out a Nifty 250 (or 350 if I’m going good) before she joins me in the living room. I sometimes do this on my laptop. I used to do it on my beloved AlphaSmart. But Alphie is showing his age lately, so I invested in a very cool Macally wireless keyboard that has a slot for your phone or tablet. I write my words in Google Docs.

Getting a 250 or 350 jump on the day makes hitting the quota so much easier.

I’ll sometimes do some morning pages to get the engine started. This often results in a new idea for a story. [Note: I don’t count morning pages in my quota, unless I end up using some of them in a project.]

James Scott Bell—October 15, 2023

***

  1. Have you tried breaking down a task into the smallest possible unit as Clare described? Any advice to add on doing so?
  2. How do you measure your progress as a writer?
  3. If you’ve ever stopped writing or been stalled out, how have you restarted your practice of writing?