Amid Chaos, Stories Matter Even More

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Imagine if we lived in a world where there were no stories–no stories to write, to tell, to read, to enjoy, to make us laugh and to make us cry. Where would we as humans be? How could we live? What would we know and understand about our lives?

Writing stories matters. But for those stories to matter, they need to be conceived and written.  That’s where writers and creatives come in. The world–as chaotic and uncertain as it may be–needs us.

If you’ve ever stopped to wonder why you’re putting yourself through the emotional and physical turmoil of writing stories, think about all the good you’re doing for the world, for your audience, and most importantly, for yourself.

Tiffany Yates Martin said it best in the latest issue of Writer’s Digest (print version, so no link is available to the article.) We may feel overwhelmed by the chaos happening around us to the point that we can’t find the motivation to write. Yet that is exactly when writing stories matters the most. 

Yates Martin outlined five reasons that stories matter through turbulent times:

  • Stories offer solace and hope. Stories offer comfort, especially during times of unrest. They not only offer an escape from our troubles and worries, Martine writes, they remind us of what’s important and what’s worth fighting for.
  • Stories connect us in a divided world. Because stories provide insight into the human condition through alternative perspectives, we can learn to understand the universal longings and struggles that others experience. We might understand what motivates people we might disagree with, and perhaps see them as just as complex, flawed and wounded as we are.
  • Stories make sense of the senseless. Our world is often messy and complex. Stories can help us make sense of the chaos by offering logic and cohesion. It may offer a big-picture view that we may not have considered.
  • Stories give a voice to the voiceless. Stories can highlight the injustices and oppression that others might experience, and thus heighten our awareness of it. Consider The Diary of Anne Frank which put a human face on the plight of Jews during the Nazi regime.
  • Stories can change the world. Stories can broaden and impact people’s views, which in turn can spark needed change. For example, Uncle Tom’s Cabin fueled the abolitionist movement that ended slavery. While our own writing won’t necessarily change society on a grand scale, it might change individuals in some way by providing inspiration and insight that they might not have had before.

While Yates Martin speaks about the collective reasons for writing stories, there are personal ones too. We all have our personal reasons for writing and telling stories. I’ve compiled my own list of reasons below:

  • Writing stories presents a new challenge to my skillset. I’ve always been a competent business writer, but writing fiction is a totally different animal. It wasn’t enough to be a good writer and string a series of sentences to create a cohesive thought. The question I wanted to answer for myself was: Could I become a good storyteller? Storytelling requires a different skillset than business journalism. Learning how to tell a good, compelling fiction story was a new challenge.
  • Writing stories calms me and keeps me grounded. With so much turmoil and uncertainty in the world, writing stories gives me a safe space away from all that. When I can put those disruptive news stories out of my mind, I can focus on what really matters to me–my writing.
  • Writing stories is one thing I can control. With everything happening around us–from weather-related disasters to social and political strife–it can feel like the world is out of control or that we have no control over our environment. And in many cases, we can’t. I may not have control over the unsettling changes taking place in our world, but I do have control over the stories I write. I can control the direction of the plot, the narration, the dialogue, the way the characters may grow and change. I can control how the story ends–usually in a peaceful, happy way.
  • Writing stories allows me to give free rein to my imagination. Otherwise, those brilliant ideas dancing in my brain will only remain trapped there. By writing them down, I’m bringing them to life.
  • Writing stories enables me to communicate a message to others. This is usually through the story’s theme or a character’s words of wisdom. I might be too afraid to speak for myself, so through stories, I can let a character do the talking for me.

The next time you feel tempted to walk away from your desk and give up on your story, or if you have trouble finding the motivation to write, think about why you do this. Why do you write stories? Why are you writing this particular story? Because writing stories not only can change the world, it can change you. 

What Is The Best Format for Your Story Idea: Novel, Novella or Short Story?

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Imagine that you’ve come up with a great idea for a story. You haven’t seen it published anywhere else, and you’re sure that people would read it. Only question is: should you write it as a short story, a novella or a novel?

“What’s the difference?” you might ask. 

Word counts is the short and easy answer. Depending on the length of your story, it may fall into one of several story categories:

* Novel–70,000 to 100,000 words (although some novels have been less than 70,000 words and others have exceeded the upper limit, depending on genre.)

* Novella–17,500 words to 40,000 words

* Novelette–7,500 words to 17,500 words

* Short story–Less than 7,500 words

With short stories, there’s an economy of words and action. Since you don’t have a lot of space, descriptions, backstory and exposition are limited, and there are no subplots. Full-length novels allow more time and space for exposition and backstory, setting and character development. Short stories are like a weekend getaway while novels are a month-long retreat at a luxury spa. Novellas, which fall in between, are more like your typical one-week vacation.

To learn more about these differences, check out this helpful resource from Reedsy about word counts for different genres.

How do you know where your story idea fits? Should it be a short story, a novella or a novel?.

To answer this question, I recommend fleshing out your story idea as much as you can. Jot down scene ideas, characters, plot points using post-it notes or index cards. The more details you have about your story will determine what type of format you’ll need. 


Once you’ve plotted your scenes and made your character list, consider these questions:

1. What is the main problem the characters are trying to resolve? Is it a complex problem with layers of complications? Or is it fairly simple and straightforward?

2. Are there any subplots? A full-length novel might have one or two subplots while a short story and novella won’t have any.

3. How many characters are featured in your story? If there are a few characters, it’ll most likely be a short story. Longer sagas like historical fiction or science fiction/fantasy will likely have a cast of several dozen, while a short story will be limited to a handful of people. Romance novels are roughly a dozen or less.

4. Are you writing this story in multiple POVs? More likely, it’ll fall into the novel category. You won’t see multiple POVs in a short story. You might find one other POV in a novella.

5. What is your story’s genre? Historical fiction and fantasy tend to run longer, around 100,000 words. Romance novels tend to be between 70,000 to 90,000 words. Understanding your genre will help you determine whether your story should be a novel, novella or short story.

If after answering these questions, you’re still not sure what format your story should take, try this exercise. Write the story first as a short story with one point of view, a few essential characters and limited backstory. Keep to the necessary action. Then set it aside for a few weeks. Come back to it later with a fresh eye or have a friend or writing colleague review it with you. Decide what works and what doesn’t. 

If the story seems complete as is, then it probably works best as a short story. But if you feel there’s more to the story than what you wrote, rewrite your story, this time as a novella (up to 40,000 words). This time add the elements you think are missing, whether that’s world building, setting or characters. Maybe present a second point of view. 

When you’re finished, review it again. Does the story work better? If in doubt, ask a couple of beta readers to review the manuscript and give you feedback. If, based on their feedback, you still want to expand the story, perhaps add a subplot, then you can rewrite it as a full-length novel. 

The point is to start small and work your way up, testing out your story idea at each phase to see which format works best.  

Here’s another exercise to try: Visit your local bookstore or library, or browse your own collection. Note the size and length of certain genres. Some genres simply work better as shorter pieces. Historical fiction and fantasy tend to be longer while romance works well as a novella. .

Throughout this creative process, trust your instinct. More often than not, your gut will tell you what format will work best for your story idea. When you close your eyes and visualize what the story looks like, sometimes you just know what format your story should be. 

Deciding what format your story should be isn’t as difficult as you might think. The magic comes when you begin to see your story come to life on the page.

Seven Excuses Writers Make to Avoid Calling Themselves a Writer

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When I first started writing fiction in earnest several years ago, I would call myself an “aspiring writer.” I still occasionally call myself an “aspiring novelist.” Only after hearing a published author suggest dropping the qualifier “aspiring” and simply say “I am a writer” did I feel brave enough to do that. When I did, something funny happened. I felt liberated and empowered, like I had grown wings and could fly whenever I wanted to.

Adding a qualifying term like “aspiring” to your writing title is like riding a bike with training wheels. Those wheels might help you learn to ride the bike, but at some point, you have to take them off and start pedaling.

“Adding ‘aspiring’ may feel small and inconsequential, but it’s not,” writes Lisa Fellinger, author of Write with Confidence: Shatter Self-Limiting Beliefs and Finish Your Book, at the Jane Friedman blog.  “It reinforces the belief that you’re not quite there yet, that you haven’t earned the title. Every time you call yourself an aspiring writer, you’re feeding the imposter syndrome that keeps you stuck.”

It doesn’t matter how much experience you have with writing either. Published authors struggle with this as much as novice writers. For example, at the KillZoneBlog, thriller writer James Scott Bell admits that he struggled to call himself a writer even after he had several published books under his belt. 

So why are so many writers reluctant to call themselves a writer? Fellinger hinted at one reason: imposter syndrome. But I can think of several other possible reasons for this avoidance tactic. 

  1. I haven’t published anything yet.”

    Maybe your current project is a work-in-progress. Never mind that you’ve been working on it for the past five years or longer, and you have nothing published to show for your  hard work. You believe that only published writers are worthy of the title. But the reality is as long as you show up and put in the effort, you’ve already earned the title of writer. So don’t shy away from it.

  2. “I don’t get paid for my writing; it’s volunteer work.”

    Many writers believe that they haven’t truly arrived as a writer until they’ve been paid for their work. Payment legitimizes their writing, and by extension, legitimizes the title of writer. Again, it’s about showing up and making the effort, not the final product or the reward. For many writers, writing is the reward.

  3. “My writing is a hobby, nothing more.”

    Maybe you already have a full-time job that pays the bills, such as accounting, teaching or fixing cars. That’s how you identify yourself. Writing may only be a hobby and you have no desire or expectation of publishing success. Perhaps you write for fun and relaxation. The belief is you can’t truly call yourself a writer if you’re only writing as a hobby. But in life, we wear many hats. Who’s to say that you can’t identify with several personas–a teacher, a mother and a writer? It’s okay to call yourself a writer, even if it is a hobby or side hustle. It’s the effort that matters.

  4. “No one knows I’m writing. This is a secret passion and I haven’t told anyone.”

    If no one knows that you’re writing, then you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone and you don’t have to openly call yourself a writer. Perhaps you believe no one will understand this strange compulsion to write. But the truth is that as long as you’re putting in the work–even in secret–you’re still a writer. What you’re lacking is confidence. If this sounds like you, try this experiment. Stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself, “I am a writer.” Keep saying it until you feel comfortable. Then reach out to your closest friend or family member, someone you know and trust, and speak those words to them too. With repetition and practice, you may eventually believe you are a writer.

  5. “I’m not a very good writer.”

    An inability to call yourself a writer may stem from a belief that your writing isn’t good.  The belief is that only the best writers deserve to be called writers. The truth is that no writer starts out their careers at the top of their game. In fact, many of them aren’t very good at all. But they became successful by working at their craft. Most writers produce really bad first drafts (sometimes even second and third drafts). That doesn’t make them any less of a writer. Through persistent, hard work, their writing improved. So will yours. It’s the effort that counts.

  6. “I’m afraid that once I call myself a writer, I will have to take this writing habit of mine more seriously.”

    Yes, that is likely true. Calling yourself a writer means making a stronger commitment to the writing journey and becoming the best writer you can be. It means doing the things that will improve your craft. Saying “I am a writer” shows confidence in your talents, even if you don’t necessarily feel that way inside. Sometimes you have to fake it to make it. Start calling yourself a writer and see what follows.

  7. “I was told when I was younger that writing is not a suitable, respectable or legitimate career path.”

    Sadly, many writers have heard this criticism. If someone has convinced you that writing  is a waste of time, you’ve got some work to do. Thanks to this brainwashing (because that’s what this is), you’ve avoided calling yourself a writer to prove to critics that you’re toeing the line. Worse, you’ve probably avoided writing at all. But deep down, that urge to write is still strong. I say, write anyway. What matters more is how you feel about writing. So the next time you take a shower, prepare dinner or lie in bed before sleeping, tell yourself “I am a writer.” Keep repeating it like an affirmation. Before long, the words will sink in

Many writers have overcome these mental obstacles to create satisfying, respectable and legitimate writing careers. Think about your own excuses for not calling yourself a writer. What’s holding you back? What can you do to change your mindset and proudly say, “I am a writer?”

What a Critique Partner Can Do for Your Writing

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Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about finding a critique partner. 

Before you cringe at the word critique, let me explain. Critique isn’t necessarily a bad thing if it’s done well. As harsh as the word sounds to more sensitive ears, critiques perform some good in the world, especially for creatives who want to improve their craft.

Whether it’s provided by a professional editor or a close writer friend, a critique can provide insights about your writing–about what you’re doing well and what needs improvement. According to Writer’s Digest, “a good critique partner offers constructive criticism that elevates your story. They do this while lifting you up and never tearing you down.”

Think of a critique partner as a step up from a writing buddy. There are differences between the two. For one, writing buddies may not write in the same genre as you and perhaps may not have the same level of experience. A critique partner is a closer and more balanced relationship. More likely, they’re writing in the same genre and may already be published, so they bring that added level of expertise when reviewing your work. I also believe critique partners are more invested in your success than a writing buddy might be. 

Most important, critique partners bring respect to the relationship. They’re not trying to tear you down or make you feel bad about yourself. They’re there to help you become a better writer. Likewise, as a critique partner for someone else, it’s important to be respectful of them.

That said, there are some ground rules for joining with a critique partner–for both you and your partner. Here are a few suggestions from WritingMastery.com.

  1. Set expectations for the partnership. What type of feedback do you each need? Developmental edits or notes on story structure? Grammar and punctuation? It’s often helpful to provide a few questions that the critique partner can answer. For example, did any parts of the story lag? Their responses can point to problem areas that need to be fixed.
  2. Provide context for the submitted material. Is it only the first chapter you want them to review? Or maybe it’s 50 pages from the middle section. (Because we all know how troublesome that middle section can be.) If possible, set a deadline for their review so the manuscript pages don’t sit on the backburner for too long.
  3. Be positive in your critique. Avoid being too heavy handed with your feedback. Try sandwiching any negative feedback between positive comments. Start with a compliment, followed by critique, then conclude with another compliment. It can often soften the blow. Be specific with your feedback too. For example, if a section or story was boring, don’t just say it was boring. Explain why you think the story lagged so you lost interest. If the story isn’t your cup of tea, don’t be afraid to say so.
  4. Accept feedback gracefully. If you’re the one receiving the feedback, keep an open mind and don’t overreact if you hear negative comments. It might help to come back to the critique a few days later after you’ve had a chance to calm down. The comments may  make more sense by then. That approach has often worked for me. You also have the option, as the original creator, to nix any of your partner’s suggestions. They may not totally understand the basis for your story.
  5. Provide resources to your critique partner. If the other writer is struggling with dialogue, they might appreciate receiving resources that can help them improve that aspect of their craft. But always ask if they want those resources; don’t assume they will accept them with grace.
  6. Always respect your partner, and expect the same in return. Any relationship is based on mutual respect. If there are any differences, talk them out to clear the air. That’s why it’s important to set expectations up front so there are no misunderstandings later on. Of course, if the partnership no longer works for either of you or if the mutual respect is lacking, it may be time to move on.

    When you’re feeling stuck on a story and need an objective opinion, a critique partner can help you move past the problem areas so you become the best writer you can be. 

Do’s and Don’ts of Maintaining a Writing Practice

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Starting a writing practice can be difficult to start and maintain. There’s always the potential for distractions, like a child or pet wanting you to play with them. But with every milestone achieved, whether it’s finishing 1000 words or completing the first short story or essay, there is a sense of accomplishment. 

No matter what type of writer you are–or want to be–having a consistent writing practice is key to making progress. Inspired by this article on Writer’s Digest website recently about the do’s and don’ts of writing, I’ve created my own list based on my own experience on this writing journey. Because while writing is a solo activity, we can all learn from each other.

Do’s:

  • Do maintain a consistent practice. Whether that’s 500 words per day for six days or only one morning on the weekend for three hours, the schedule is up to you. The important thing is to be consistent about it. It may not seem like you’re not making much progress with your manuscript, but by the end of several months, you’ll have a completed story.
  • Do read and learn as much as you can about the publishing industry, particularly about the different paths to publication. There are numerous resources, magazines, industry blogs, and workshops that can help you understand what’s at stake. The more you know about the various paths to publication–whether traditional, hybrid or self-publishing–the better prepared you will be to decide which path is right for you.
  • Do read often and widely. Most writers I know are voracious readers. Reading different genres and authors exposes you to various writing styles. It’s just as important to read in your chosen genre so you know what readers are buying in the current marketplace. Reading widely can help you to develop your own narrative writing voice.
  • Do learn about story structure (if you’re writing fiction). When I started writing, I didn’t know anything about story structure, character arcs and creating tension. I know a lot more than I used to, but I’m still learning. I probably will always be learning because I’m a bit of a perfectionist and I want to write the best story I can. So do your homework. Once you understand the rules of story structure, you can break them later.
  • Do develop a professional support system. Surround yourself with people who can provide encouragement and support when you need it, like when you get your first rejection notice or when you feel stuck on your work-in-progress. Other writers can provide insights about your process, and friends who are avid readers can tell you what’s working and what isn’t. You don’t have to go through the writing process alone. Reach out to others when you need a lift.
  • Do keep writing. This is probably the most important to-do of all. There are times when you will feel like quitting, times when the motivation just isn’t there. That’s when it might be tempting to walk away from the desk or give up altogether. If you need to take a day off to clear your head of storylines and characters, that’s okay. But walking away from your writing will feel like you’ve given up on yourself. So even when you’re having a rough day at your desk, do keep writing.

Don’ts:

  • Don’t worry about the first draft (or even the second). It will always be garbage, a jumbled mess of ideas. This is a normal part of the story development process. Think of the first draft as the brainstorming phase in which you throw out all your ideas, no matter if they make sense or not. See which ones stick. The real writing begins with the revision phase.
  • Don’t let the revision process overwhelm you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stopped my own progress because the revision process overwhelmed me. Was I doing it right? Did I really need that scene? (If you have to ask that question, you probably don’t.) It’s okay to take baby steps with revision, and it’s also okay to ask for insights from a critique partner. Take one chapter at a time and review it to see if it aligns with your overall story. Does the scene push the story forward? Does it align with the story arc? Only you can answer those questions. Revision isn’t a race, more like a rough sludge through mud. But with a slow, consistent pace, you will get to the finish line.
  • Don’t wait for inspiration to strike. If you wait for the lightning bolt of an idea to strike you before writing a word, you may be waiting an awfully long time. Even if you don’t know what to write about, sit down and write anyway. So what if it’s all garbage to start with.  Inspiration will come. It usually does. You sort of have to knock on the door of inspiration first. The door will open and let you in.
  • Don’t deny your creative needs. We go through life taking care of our various needs, such as the physical need for nutrition and proper sleep and the emotional need for connection with others or giving back to the community. Most of us don’t think about the other basic need–the need to express ourselves creatively. Creative needs are as critical to our well-being as proper nutrition and self-care. They’re also as natural as breathing and sleeping. So don’t neglect your creative needs, and find ways to express yourself through your writing or other creative outlet.
  • Don’t be afraid to share your work with others. While you may prefer to keep your writing to yourself or wait until the story is absolutely perfect (guilty as charged), keeping your writing a secret serves no useful purpose. Some things are better when it’s shared. 

You probably have your own list of do’s and don’ts about writing. What’s at the top of your list? Is there anything here you agree or disagree with?

How to Hook Readers into Your Story

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If you’ve ever gone fishing (I admit I have not), you usually need something to lure your catch, such as a worm. You need to do the same for readers (minus the worm). Author K.M. Weiland describes it best:

“Unless you hook readers into your story from the very first chapter, they won’t swim in deep enough to experience the rest of your rousing adventure, no matter how amazing it is.”

Hooks are used to get reactions from readers and entice them to ask questions about what’s happening on the page. There’s some suspense connected with hooks too because they hint at the action to come, prompting readers to keep reading.  

A recent webinar by Contemporary Romance Writers outlined the most common types of hooks. I’ve described a few of them below.

1. Show some action – The easiest way to hook readers is by engaging characters in some type of action. That doesn’t mean it has to be violent or mysterious, like a car chase. But something should be happening on the page. Maybe someone is cleaning out the attic and finds an old diary. Or the character is baking a cake to prepare for a wedding. Or someone else is in the middle of a presentation to their work colleagues. Avoid cliches such as waking up from a dream or a description of the weather because frankly, they’re overused and boring, and do nothing to engage readers. And that’s the ultimate goal of a hook.

2. Introduce a unique character – Introduce a character with unique characteristics. It typically is the protagonist but not always. Show how that person is different. Do they have a unique job or hobby, or unique skills, like seeing dead people? Do they have an odd habit, like being perpetually late for appointments. Or maybe your character is like John Singer, the deaf-mute man featured in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers, who befriends the lonely people in a small town while struggling with his own feelings of loneliness.

3. Form an emotional connection – Try reading the opening pages from several of your favorite books. Do they make you feel any specific emotion, such as sadness, anger or guilt? Does the action make you feel anxious for the character because they might be in danger? Establishing an emotional connection with readers will ensure that readers stay engaged and will follow along on the character’s journey.

4. Pose a question – Sometimes the hook may come in the form of a formally asked question: “Why did I think I could get away from this?” (That’s not a real opening hook; I just made that one up.) Readers will want to know who the narrator is and what they were trying to get away with. The most important question readers will have though is something they ask themselves:  “What happens next?” As long as they keep asking that question, they’ll keep reading to get the answer.

5. Share a surprising or shocking dialogue – Opening scenes may feature a conversation between people, but the subject or tone may be shocking. For example, in Nutshell by Ian McEwan, a married pregnant woman and her lover discuss plans to murder her husband, and every word is overheard by the woman’s unborn child, who narrates the story. Who wouldn’t want to keep reading to know more about what happens next?

6. Include humor – Making readers laugh from your opening scene is another great way to hook them into your story. Humor can be found in the way a character behaves or in a witty exchange. In the opening scene of The Love of My Afterlife by Kristy Greenwood, the young protagonist chokes on a piece of bread and is convinced she is about to die. Her mind goes into overdrive with assorted worries and fears, some quite irrational, but Greenwood does it in such a way that makes you laugh out loud. When done well, adding humor can suffuse any tension. 

7. Foreshadowing – The hook may hint at some sort of conflict or action that will take place  later. For example, in the opening prologue in The Diamond Eye by Kate Quinn, a mysterious stranger looks on from a distance as Eleanor Roosevelt welcomes a Russian sniper to the White House. The stranger is clearly angry, and readers sense that a confrontation will occur at some point between him and the sniper, which entices them to keep reading.

8. Describe a surprising situation – One thing all these hooks I’ve discussed have in common is the element of surprise. Something surprising or unexpected occurs in the opening scene from the overheard dialogue to someone choking on a cheap hamburger. Its impact is to jolt readers to attention, and ask the question, “What happens next?”

I’ll add one more hook to this list, courtesy of the experts at Master Class. The title of your story serves is the earliest opportunity to grab readers’ attention. It serves as a “mini-hook” using “emotionally loaded language or surprising combinations of words to hint at the story within its pages.” Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets offers a clear hook. You know right away from the title who the story is about and what they’ll be looking for. 

Hooking readers doesn’t end with the opening scene. You need to keep hooking them throughout the novel. Thriller authors are adept at doing this. One technique often used is to introduce a new question every time the previous one is answered. Also try opening each chapter with a teaser – some action, dialogue, an intriguing new character – much like you do to start your story. That keeps readers engaged until the end. 

Your story and its genre will dictate what kind of hook will work best. Experiment and see what works. As long as you keep the action moving, readers will ride along on the journey until they get to The End.

Building Your Story From First Line to First Draft

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No doubt you’ve heard about the importance of the firsts in writing—the first line, the first paragraph, the first page, the first scene, the first draft. Each “first” has its own role to perform. It must contain certain elements for the story to work, just like pieces of a giant puzzle. Every element must fit together.

Why are they important? How can you make them as compelling as possible so your manuscript doesn’t end up in the editor’s slush pile? Here’s what you need to know about each of these “firsts” to readers, agents and editors won’t stop reading.

The first line

There is some debate about the importance of the opening sentence. Some say it has to grab the reader from the get-go and hint at the conflict to come. Others say it’s more important to focus on the first paragraph which gives readers more information about what’s to come.  

“The first sentence alone doesn’t give readers enough information or the writer enough room. The paragraph gives enough room and direction to write your book,” says John Matthew Fox in a guest post on JaneFriedman.com.

I’m inclined to agree with Fox. I’ve read a few doozies of opening lines for some wonderful stories, but most of the time, opening lines are rather lackluster. I still kept reading anyway, and the stories were just as readable.

I see the first sentence as the first blow of a balloon. You won’t see much result from your effort of blowing, but with sustained effort, that first line serves as the starting point for something bigger.

The first paragraph

The first paragraph should make a strong first impression, stronger even than the first line. It should give readers enough information about the story to decide if they want to keep reading.

John Matthew Fox says opening paragraphs contain four critical elements:

  • Characterization – Readers need to learn something about the main character. It could be a dilemma they’re grappling with, some deep emotion they’re feeling or some puzzle they’re trying to solve. Readers need to know something about them that makes them relate to the character, or makes them want to root for them in the story.
  • Energy/tone – The first paragraph should bring a certain energy to the story. A rom-com, for example, will be written with a light-hearted tone, while a horror story might have a darker, creepier tone
  • Mystery or conflict – The opening paragraph should hint at some question or conflict that needs to be resolved. For example, why a complete stranger is watching someone else from a distance.
  • Emotion – Finally, the first paragraph should exude some emotion to hook the reader, whether that’s fear, grief or disappointment.  


The first page

At an average length of 250 to 300 words, the opening page has to do a lot of things in a short amount of time to kick the story into high gear. It’s the heavy lifter of all the firsts.

In a recent weekly newsletter, Karyn Fischer of Story & Prose outlines the common elements of the first page.

* Character and desire – What does the character want? The first paragraph might have hinted at this, but the opening page goes into more depth.
* Conflict and stakes – What or who opposes the main character in getting what they want?  * Voice – Fischer says it’s often difficult to pinpoint voice, but you might detect it through the way they speak or think. Does their voice sound true to life?
*Setting and world-building – The first page should give readers a sense of where they are in the story. Perhaps it’s a birthday party in someone’s home, the site of a car accident or a courtroom. Don’t overload the story with setting details, but sprinkle them throughout to give a sense of time and place.
* Action – Make sure the character is doing something, whether it’s baking a cake or being chased by thieves.
* Genre – Depending on the genre, the opening page should hint at the type of story people are reading. In historical fiction, for example, the first page might have visual cues that show time and place.

First scene/first chapter

I’ve combined the first scene and chapter into one section for a couple of reasons. First, they consist of the same elements and strive to accomplish the same goals. Second, a chapter may consist of a single scene, or several.

While the first page does a lot of work to prepare readers for what’s next in the story, the first scene or chapter ramps up the effort. In addition to doing what the first page does, the first scene or chapter does more, such as:

* Introduce other compelling characters that will either support or antagonize the main character.
* It grounds the reader into the story, providing more details about what the protagonist is dealing with.
* It continues to build on the tone established in the first page.
* It provides the hook that will keep readers turning the page.
* Depending on the story, the first chapter (not necessarily the first scene) should contain the inciting incident, the situation that gets the story moving.

By the end of the first scene or chapter, readers should know enough about the main character and their plight to determine if they like the character and empathize with their situation. If readers don’t find anything to like about the character, it’s likely they’ll give up on the story.

First 50 pages

The first 50 pages are important because it’s those pages that many editors and agents will review to determine if it’s worth reading—and publishing. It’s also a litmus test for readers. If the story loses its steam, readers will lose interest before they get to that 50-page mark. More specifically, the first 50 pages:

* Give readers, agents and editors an impression of your writing style.
* Includes the inciting incident and shows the raising of the stakes
* Shows the initial progress in the protagonist’s character arc. How will they grow or progress as the story moves forward?

First draft

When you finish writing your first draft, you might think your work is done. But it’s only just starting. The editing and rewriting process is where the real creativity begins, experts suggest.

The first draft, in all its messy glory, should contain the spine of the story—namely the who, what, when, where, why and how. It has three main goals:

* Helps you get all your ideas down on paper, from characters and their backstory to setting and dialogue.
* It helps you lay out the major plot points.
* It provides a road map for how to proceed during the revision process.  

If all goes well at each of these “first” elements, then it’s only a matter of time before you enjoy the next first in your professional writing life—publishing your first book.

Alternative Pre-Writing Methods to Kickstart Your Novel

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Last week, I wrote about becoming a puzzler, which combines elements of plotting and discovery writing (pantser). It’s a happy medium for those who need some structure in the way they plan their novels, but still want the flexibility of organic story development.

One of the tools puzzlers may use is storyboarding, which helps them visualize key plot points. In fact, there are numerous other methods writers can use to help them structure and visualize their stories before they begin writing, such as mind mapping, collages, tarot cards and Enneagram personality types. I’ll describe each of these below (plus a couple others). Granted, they may not be for everyone, but they might be worth exploring to see how they might work for you.

  • Collages – Collages are a collection of photos that help writers “see” the details of their story. By cutting out images from magazines and pasting them on poster board, or using a digital platform like Canva or Pinterest, you can compile images representing the characters and settings.  You can add other elements, such as a car that a character might drive, a restaurant where two characters meet, or a school where a particular event takes place. Add swatches of fabric to represent a dress a character wears, as well as sketches, drawings, symbols or anything else that might inspire a key plot point. Collages not only provide a visual cue, they can be fun to put together and provide inspiration for those times when you feel stuck.

  • Mind mapping – Also known as clustering, this method helps writers see the connections between unrelated ideas. It can also help them understand theme, conflict, and character development. Start with your main concept in the center captured with some central image such as a cloud. From that image are branches that represent the main themes of your story. Each branch comprises a key word that’s printed on its associated line. Topics of lesser importance are represented as twigs. Viewed together, the twigs and branches form a structure of interconnectedness. For more information about mind mapping, visit Mindmapping.com.

  • Storyboarding – Using index cards or post-it notes, or even sketches, jot down each scene as you think of them. One scene per card. Then rearrange them in the order that seems to make the most sense for your narrative. By looking at the cards, you can see whether the sequence of scenes makes logical sense and if there are any scenes that need to be added or changed. It provides a tool for planning your story before you begin writing it so you’re not wasting time on writing scenes that will only be cut later.  Learn more about story boarding at Gilliam Writers Group.

  • Tarot Cards – Tarot cards provide a range of meanings whether they appear upright or reversed. Cards representing the king, queen, prince and page can represent individual characters while the four main elements each have their own meaning: Swords for intellect, Cups for love and emotion, Wands for work and physical activities, and Discs for wealth and resources. Some writers, like Quinn Diacon-Furtado, turn to tarot cards when they feel stuck in their story and seek clarity about their characters, settings or plot.

    “As a writer, I’ve learned to use the tarot to explore my characters, intuit plot, and to reflect on my creative process,” she explains in a Writer’s Digest article.  “Unlike conventional writing guides, I’ve found that tarot cards offer a dynamic landscape of symbols and archetypes that help me work through the nuances of character development, the intricacies of plot dynamics, and the richness of world-building.”

  • Enneagram – The Enneagram is a geometric diagram with nine points, each representing a personality type. It shows the interconnectedness of the personalities. Writers have used the Enneagram to understand characters’ personalities, their strengths and weaknesses, and how they might relate to characters of other Enneagram personalities. Some personalities will get along better with other types while other combinations may become rife with conflict.  You can find out more about the Enneagram diagram here.

  • Timelining – This tool is especially helpful if you’re writing a story with multiple timelines. How do you keep those timelines straight so readers don’t get confused? Timelining can be as simple as a straight line across the page with each major plot point marked. Or it can be more complex as a spreadsheet with multiple timelines for multiple plots. Doing a timeline before writing helps writers organize their thoughts and ensure a logical progression of events as well as the character’s arc of development over time.

  • Zero drafting – Only recently did I learn about zero drafting, which falls somewhere between a basic outline and the first draft of a novel. It can sometimes be used as a brainstorming session. Writers use this method to work out key details of their story, using phrases, slap-dash prose, or bullet points without any consideration for word count, quality of writing or formatting.  Zero drafting allows writers to get to the spine of the story without expending time and energy on a first draft. It’s ideal for writers who are still working out the basic framework until they feel ready to start writing.

    Though I have never used this zero drafting myself, I can see how it can be useful, not just for creating your story framework, but also for drafting your synopsis.

No matter where you are in your project, these pre-writing methods can help you explore your stories before you begin to put pen to paper.

Neither a Plotter Nor a Pantser? Try Becoming a Puzzler

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Writers usually fall into one of two categories: the plotter or the pantser.

Plotters prefer to plan out every aspect of their stories ahead of time, from the setting, character, theme, structure. They will plot out every scene from the opening paragraph to the final resolution. They have to know every detail in advance before starting to write. Plotting allows writers to view their story from all detailed angles. They know exactly what they want to write before writing it.

I’ve tried this plotting approach once before early in my fiction writing. It was the first story I attempted to write. I quickly gave up on it because I found it limiting. My plotting didn’t allow for new characters to show up, and I struggled to find the right place in the story for new scenes as I thought of them.

Still there are plenty of authors who have plotted their way to success. Fantasy author K.M. Weiland is a big proponent of outlining and story structure, and goes into a deep dive on these subjects on her blog. She’s also written several books about plotting if you want to learn more.

One disadvantage I see is the extra time it takes to get the details “just right.” It can take the wind out of your creative sails too. By the time you’re done plotting, you could lose interest in your story because you feel you’ve already written it in plotting form.

But not every writer works that way.

Then there are the pantsers . . .
I always believed I was a pantser, also known as a discovery writer, because I enjoyed discovering my story as I wrote. With only a vague sense of main characters and a few scene ideas, pantsers tend to begin writing if only to see where the story takes them, or whether there’s a story at all.

The advantage of writing by the “seat of your pants” is that it gives the imagination free rein. The story, without the limits of plotting, can go in a multitude of directions, and it can be fun to discover new characters and settings that you didn’t think of initially. Writers feel free to explore their story world without the limitations of a set of rules or structure.

The downside, however, is that by the end of the drafting phase, what writers have is a ton of material with no cohesiveness between scenes, characters or plot. That only makes the editing phase much harder because there’s so much material to dig through, and much of it will land on the cutting room floor anyway. As I quickly learned, pantsers usually have to do several rewrites to get the story to where you want it to be, which can be a drain on time and energy, not to mention patience.

What if you’re neither a pantser nor a plotter – or you’re a little of both?
While I’ve experimented with both of these approaches, I realized that I don’t fit neatly in either one. While I love exploring plots and characters organically, I also recognize that I need to plot my story to some extent so I know where it’s going. Otherwise, I’m only spinning my wheels, editing and rewriting sections until they feel right.

Enter Puzzling.

The Novel Smithy Lewis Jorstad explains that puzzling works by bringing elements of plotting and pantsing together.  For example, perhaps you have a brilliant story concept and can visualize several scenes in your mind, have a rough idea of characters and an inkling of how it will end. Using index cards or post-it notes, jot down each individual scene – one idea per card. You may not think of every scene right off the bat. You may only have three or four scenes to start. But that’s okay. What you are doing is creating a puzzle with various pieces that will eventually fit together. This is the discovery part.

Once you have a collection of scenes on index cards (or post-it notes), spread them all out on a table or tape to the wall so you can see them all at a glance. Then rearrange them in the order you think they should go. This is the plotting aspect.

Once the cards are in some story order, review them again. Note if there are any gaps in the sequence. Wherever there is a gap, insert a card indicating a scene to come.

The advantage to puzzling is that it allows you to generate scenes on the go. You don’t have to think of every scene before writing. You can write the scenes you do know, knowing the rest will come eventually. You don’t have to follow any structural rules.

Even while drafting, you may still come up with new scenes. When that happens, jot them down on a card and insert them where you think they might fit in the story. You can add or delete scenes and change the order of them as you go along. It gives you more control and flexibility than a straight plotting structure, which can be limiting to those who want to give their imagination free rein.

Another benefit is the ability to review your story at a glance scene-by-scene and make adjustments to the timeline. You can also identify which scenes are the key plot points of your novel.  I suspect this approach results in fewer rewrites.

Are there any downsides? So far, I haven’t found any, though I just started working with it for my current work in progress. In the short time I’ve been using this puzzler approach, I’ve learned a few things:

  1. It has helped me maintain my interest in the story. With previous approaches, I’ve invariably lost interest in my manuscript and given up on it, or got lost in the muddling middle.
  2. It allows me to assess my scene sequence and rearrange them as I see fit, without  having to rewrite anything.
  3. It helps me stay focused on one scene at a time. With one scene per card, I know what I’m writing next and I’m not left staring at a blank screen. The cards give me a clue and keep me on track.

    If you’ve tried plotting or pantsing, and they haven’t provided the results you want, give puzzling a try. You may find that being a puzzler makes you a more productive writer.  

Dictate Your Way to Publishing Success

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Writers are always looking for ways to work smarter and get more done in less time.

Enter dictation.

When I think of dictation, I think of the old-school way of recording correspondence back in the 1980s. Managers would dictate letters and other correspondence in a recorder with a tiny cassette, then their secretaries would play it back to transcribe them.

Fortunately, as technology evolved, so did dictation and transcription tools, making it easier for writers to draft larger projects, like full-length novels. Several well-known authors routinely used dictation to help them draft their novel, including Dan Brown, Henry James, Barbara Cartland, and Agatha Christie. TV executive Sidney Sheldon reportedly dictated novels for several hours in the morning and then had his secretary transcribe them later.

I must confess I have never used dictation to draft any of my own stories, but I know that option is available. You can’t overlook its value to authors. While writing 1200 words can take a couple of hours, with dictation, it takes roughly 30 minutes.

Sarah Elizabeth Sawyer of FictionCourses.com who writes Native American historical fiction, also teaches courses about dictation. Of her 19 published books, at least 10 have been created by dictation.

Sawyer cites several benefits:

* Improved health – With dictions, there’s less strain on the eyes, back and shoulder.
* Better time management – You can dictate while waiting for appointments or walking the dog.
* Improved speaking skills – With practice, you speak more confidently which helps prepare you for author readings.
* Experiment with character voices – You can test out character voices with accents and dialects, and inject personality into their voices.

Users have noted several blocks to getting started with dictation. Some said the practice just didn’t work for them or they felt their brain didn’t operate that way. Others cited the cost of dictation software, although there are plenty of free options available, or the software was difficult to use. Still others said they drew a blank when they pressed the record button.

There are other downsides, such as messy punctuation. That only means you have to be prepared to review and edit the drafted material more carefully afterwards. The software may not recognize unusual spellings and pronunciations of character and location names, especially those you might find in science fiction and fantasy novels. Like any new skills, there’s a learning curve before you’re able to do it well.

Still if you have the patience and determination to try to produce creative work in less time, dictation might be worth a try. But which software and apps work best? Do you need any special equipment?

Jason Hamilton at Kindlepreneur shared the best dictation tools, giving the pros and cons of each.

  • Dragon – By far, Dragon software performed the best though the cost may put off many potential users. The Professional Individual version cost $500 while the Home version is $200.  
  • Windows Speech Recognition – free option that comes with most Windows computers
  • Apple Dictation – a free option for Mac users
  • Google Docs Voice – a free option with the power of Google
  • Otter.ai – a free trial is available for new users. I’ve heard mixed reviews on whether this works for long form documents like novels. That said, I have used it for transcribing notes from interviews.

No matter where you are in your writing process or what kind of projects you work on, any tool that can help you produce more words in less time is worth checking out.