Bloom (in Frosting): Mixing Magic and Realism, Guest Blogger - Alexandra LaFaye!

 Did you know it takes warmth to make flowers bloom? This month's series is called Bloom. It should make you really toasty! Join me in welcoming the talented author A. LaFaye as she takes over Seize the day! She is about heat up your mind with a huge dose of mixing magic and realism. Writers, get ready to bloom!

Bloom (in Frosting): Mixing Magic and Realism

 credit: Bigstock

Many of the rules of fiction haunt us – like spirits of drafts past or critiques gone wrong—they loom over us chanting, “show don’t tell” and the like, but as a writer and a mentor of writers, I’m not a fan of “the rules.” In fact, I would suggest that rules, grammar, and all of the conscious mind clutter that occupies our thoughts in the editing phase should take a backseat in the creation stage. Writers are often more empowered, creative, and productive if they write from their subconscious and leave all of the rules for the revision, or better yet, the editing phase.

And my topic for today is about getting our readers to move closer to their subconscious and loosen their grip on the rules of reality as they’re reading so that they can buy into a fictional world that resembles their own, but is infused with elements of fantasy—young wizards living under the stairs, angels hidden away in the potting shed, and the like. I’m not talking about magic realism here. That’s a whole other approach to writing that is very culturally grounded and often misunderstood. For more information on magic realism, this article would be a great start: Magic Realism

What I am talking about it reality-based fantasy or stories so well-grounded in reality that a.readers are surprised to discover that the world they’re in contains elements of the fantastic and/or b. the fantastic is convincing enough to allow readers to “buy into” the otherworldly elements being portrayed.

Since I’m generally opposed to rules, I’ll have to say that for every guideline I give you here, you’ll no doubt know of at least half a dozen works that thwart the general rule and that’s the mark of great art—knowing the rules well enough to work around them or defy them all together—creating your own magic as you go. Still, these guidelines may be helpful in giving you a place to start.

And the starting line in reality-based fantasy is “A Voice in the Fog”

On a foggy night at sea a sound in the distance has a magical quality to it simply because we cannot explain it. The change in our environment puts us on edge just a little, piquing our interest, and leading us to question our surroundings—keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

This “voice in the fog” in a story is the small element that tells us something is not quite normal in the world we’ve just entered.

To illustrate my points, I’m going to use my short story “Testing, Testing 1, 2, 3...” from the anthology Shelf Life edited by Gary Paulsen and filled with great genre-based stories by writers like Gregory Maguire, M.T. Anderson, and Jennifer Holm who are quite good at drawing readers into realistic worlds fused with fantasy and I hope my story holds its own among this talented crowd.

In “Testing,” the main character, Patrick Troy is struggling to pass standardized tests in eighth grade and in jeopardy of not being able to enter high school, so he’s only allowed to leave the house to attend school and keep up his lawn mowing job. His newest client, Mrs. Whitamore, has hired him through the mail.

As he explains, “That may seem odd, but I get a lot of weird stuff in the mail. When I hit second grade, I started getting a blank card each week. I didn't know who sent them. There was never a return address on the envelope. No postmark. Just my name. Each one was a different blind you bright color, but they never had one word on the card inside. Mrs. Whittamore's card was bright too. There was no return address. I even thought it was another blank card, but instead she asked me to mow her lawn for her every Saturday at noon.”

Here, we know something is out of the ordinary, but we’re not sure exactly what it means. This gets our “magic sense” tingling and moves us into the next element of combining fantasy and reality:

The Scully Factor (AKA Plausible Deniability)

When we’re given a fantastic premise, “being hired through the mail” it should be deniable at first or at least explainable. Here, we learn that Patrick has often gotten strange things in the mail. What we learn later is that the lawn mowing request and the cards that came before it are also a test of worth (an early stage of the hero quest plot pattern that appears in most fantastic stories). But when we first encounter them they are a foreshadowing of the magic to come and an undercutting explanation for why he’d get hired through the mail.

To draw readers into the fantasy within the realism of a story like this one, writers must

Incubate Their Dragon Eggs

Besides their size, dragon eggs aren’t that shocking. Why they could simply be housing a fetal emu for all we know. But when the dragon hatches, it’s no longer possible to deny that something fantastic is afoot or awing. And in reality-based fantasy, writers must raise the stakes, increasing the elements of fantasy, decreasing the elements of reality until the fantasy is no longer deniable—it is the new reality of the story.

When Patrick accepts the mail-delivered job offer, he is excited to see into Mrs. Whitamore’s yard because she has nine foot hedges and is suspected of being a witch—no one sees her, she has a hidden yard, and there are odd chimes emanating from her house. When he arrives, the wind opens her screen door and ushers him through the dark house to a backyard with rings of flowers that spin right up to her back porch—all increasingly unusual things that could be explained.

Mrs. Whitamore doesn’t speak, she delivers directions on cards that are, at first look, blank, but as Patrick describes the first one, “As I got up farther, the card seemed to have gray squiggly lines that moved around like curly hair caught in the wind. Standing right in front of her, squinting, the lines darkened and stiffened into letters. I thought I needed to get my eyes checked for new glasses. That happened every spring.

The card read, ‘The butterflies need exercise.’

She smiled, her misty eyes getting all shiny.

Here we get a sense that she may be writing them with her mind or he may have eye sight issues—plausible deniability (the Scully Factor at work), but we also learn that Mrs. Whitamore is a bit more than unusual because she wants him to mow her flowers to give her butterflies exercise.

His payment that first day is a blank book. He finds this odd, especially when his watch tells him the whole job took only five minutes—but he blames the time shift on a broken watch—he often makes them stop on account of his “magnetic personality,” so reality is still in the lead, but when he returns the next week and discovers that the flowers are as tall and in full bloom as they were the week before we know for certain that magic is definitely at play.

And when she tells him that the book she gave him is as blank as the card she’s holding, Patrick realizes that the magic in his life is undeniable and he has a enchanted book that eventually teaches him how to stop time and finish the standardized tests that have dogged him all year long.

In many ways, reality-based fantasy is

Like a Layer Cake with Mythical Frosting

credit:amazingdata.com

At the base, you have a pretty ordinary plate that may be wrapped in foil, but alone it’s as ordinary as mowing the lawn, then comes the first layer which is mostly cake and homework and standardized tests, and then there’s a layer of mythical frosting where reputed witches can hire you to mow their lawn through the mail, then you mow rings of flowers as a host of butterflies take flight—the decorations on the layer of cake that’s all lawn clippings and tests looming.

Layer by layer, the elements of reality shrink like the layers of the cake and the frosting and decorations—the magic of fantasy—take center stage and we have a kid who can stop time to give himself the room he needs to learn what he wants to know and finish the blooming test. When you look at the story as a whole the glittering magic is what resonates with us, but the emotional satisfaction of a test passed is the cake in our belly.

So, I’ve either shown you how to mix fantasy and reality or simply made you hungry for cake. Either way, I’m so grateful that you joined me on this journey and I want to offer you the opportunity for seconds or at least “cake” decorating tips. AKA What questions do you have for me about blending fantasy and reality?

After all, I have this short story, a novel about a girl who discovers her adoptive parents are shape-shifting seals (Water Steps), a novel-in-verse about an Appalachian girl who can see the future (Pretty Omens), and a book about a girl whose widowed father is confidently waiting for his wife’s return (The Keening).

But don’t just take my word for it. Feel free to explore other approaches to the same fusion of reality and fantasy, here’s a good article from Fantasy Faction to get your started: "Reality Made Fantastic" If you have questions or comments, please share them here. You can also stop by and visit me on my own blog Wordy Wanderings Thank you once again, to you for reading, and to Molly Blaisdell for the opportunity to be a guest on her blog. Have a famtastic—hopefully, cake-filled day!

www.facebook.com/alafayeauthor
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Thank you for sharing your genius, Alexandria! This whole post warmed me up. I'm about to bloom. Readers, thank you for dropping by and I hope that you come back next week for more of the bloom series.

Finally, we already had some doodles, but here is a quote for your pocket:

She told me about rolling hills covered with cornfields and treeless miles of land without water. I dreamt of cornfields dotted with yellow rosebushes A. LaFaye, The Year Of The Sawdust Man

Novel Craft: When to Cut a Scene

Hi, folks. This is the last in a series about writing scenes.

This week I'm going to focus on cutting scenes. This is a tough procedure for writers. You worked hard to create that well crafted scene, and now you are going to toss it. How do you know you are making a good decision?

I hope to offer some easy guidance.  But here is the first thing you need to know. Cutting scenes hurts. There are some tender moments in there. There is action and drama. I see some sparkly dialogue and deep heart. There is some of your blood.

Take a deep breath. You can do this.

Over time I've developed a method that helps me decide whether to keep a scene or not.  Here are my questions.

1. Is this an essential scene?

Some scenes are essential to a story. You know the opening scene, the turning point scene, the darkest moment, the climax. These scenes may need improving but you never cut them. Yay!

2. Is this scene extraneous?

Extraneous scenes are like cup of extra icing on top. Gross. When I need some time or have to travel in a story, I end up with extraneous scenes. Scrutinize these scenes.  Did you just travel across the mountains so we could watch some big mountain monsters fight? I would cut that. Did you just hang-out at your house for five scenes because you needed five months to pass. Cut that back to a line: five months passed.

3. Is this scene boring?

Whoa, I am snoozing while reading my own book. Does anyone but my knitting crazy friends care about a knit/purl sequence with excessive counting of stitches? Are your characters talking about the weather? Do your characters write a cute story about some children and you have just used up three pages recounting it?  I just skipped that scene while reading. Boring.

4. Is this scene a bunch of chitchat? 

Prattle, babble, and blather. I mean is this whole scene just two or even more characters talking about absolutely nothing. The conversation isn't offending or injurious.  It's rather nice, pleasant even. OK, you can revise it and make it offending and injurious. That might help, but often the only answer is to just cut the scene.

5. Is this scene repetitive?

Oh, yes, for the fifth time you have decided to reiterate that these two characters really don't get along. Please consider that your reader may actually have some intelligence. This logic does not work: one scene clearly shows these two characters are at odds, then three scenes that do the same thing is probably better. NO.

6. Is this all about some other than your main character?

You have wandered into the dark land of this book is "not about Jack and Jill but it is now." The book was supposed to be all about Miss Muffet and the spider.  I think you have just spent two chapters worth of scenes on Jack and Jill. Cut those chapters and give those cuties their own book! 

7. Does the scene move the plot forward? 

You remember, the plot, you know from here to there and back again. I get it. Your character has issues with her hairdresser, but this book is about her trip to Saturn's moon, Titan. I don't understand why you have just spent three pages with the hairdresser.  Isn't your character wearing a helmet anyway?

Whenever you cut a scene, put it somewhere handy. Occasionally you will need to resurrect some portion of a deleted scene. Once in a blue moon you will put the whole scene back.

Thanks for dropping by.  I hope this little series has helped you out!  


Here is this week's doodle: "Yoda was wrong. Try there is."

And finally a quote for your pocket.

Take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine. That all the world will be in love with night.
William Shakespeare.

Novel Craft: 5 Useful Scenes

Hi, folks.  Scenes serve as the building blocks of story. This is the third in a series about scenes, and this week I am going to go beyond the basic scene and discuss  a number of specialty scenes that will help produce fluid stories. This is not a complete list but these five scene types will help you expand your repertoire.  The more types of scenes you use, the more complex and texture your stories will be. As always, this is a working writer's perspective.

1. The Flashback -- This scene is similar to the basic scene but is framed. It is a jump into the past and will reveal something about the character. Use sparingly and with purpose. The frame around the flashback allows the reader to step into the past and then return to the present. The elements of this scene include  a lull, a trigger, and a memory.  Flashbacks interrupt the flow of the story and don't work well in the middle of the action.  Find a lull in your story to insert a flashback. Often the character is alone.  Next, trigger the flashback. This usually is accomplished by a sensory detail that invokes a profound feeling. Finally, recall a memory. This shoots us into the flashback, which is often a basic scene. The flashback ends with a transition line, where the character makes a decision in the present about the events of the flashback.

2. The Chase --This scene moves characters through a number of settings in rapid succession. This scene is the staple of mystery authors and action/adventure authors.  Authors must work hard to orient readers through rapid setting changes. Emotions and thoughts are clipped in this type of scene. If you see long blocks of dialogue in a chase scene, break it up.  This best way to make this type of scene work is to block it out in the physical world. Pretend to be your character and run around your backyard, leaping imagined fire pits and ducking into secret rooms. It's tons of fun and it will give you the information you need to the places for dialogue, emotion, and thoughts with finesse.

3. The Realm -- This scene moves characters through a threshold from one space/time to another. This is important in fantasy writing and historical writing. This type of scene is also a framed.  Sometimes you may stay in the alternative space/time several scenes.  Some writers like to use dates and/or setting names to help orient the reader. If you do have many space/time jumps, this convention is very helpful. If you plan to stay in the realm for a long period the convention is not necessary. This kind of scene require extra description to help the reader make the jump through space/time. So a realm scene is similar to the basic scene but pays particular attention to detail that will orient the reader, lots of sensory input. 

4. The Gag -- I love the gag scene. This type of scene is totally written to make the reader laugh.  A gag scene has all the elements of a basic scene, but also has a set-up and a pay-off.  Repeated gags can lead to big laughs. The set-up puts the reader on edge, like a bucket of water over the character's head that will be tipped at the end of the scene.  A gag involves something that will really embarrass your main character. It is about going there. Up the stakes of embarrassment three times in all gag scenes. The power of three is important here.

5. The Conversation I affectionately call this type of scene -- the talking heads.  You see lot of these scenes in literary and romance fiction. These scenes can go for up to three pages. It about quips, internal thoughts, eyes, lips,  swirling spoons and the banter between two characters.  All the elements of a basic scene are here, but the dialogue is extended. The setting is very bland and it is all about what these two people are saying. I find it handy in these scenes to give characters prosaic tasks like knitting, writing a letter, or perhaps taking a turn around the room.  You better be about to toss witticism, double-entendre and boiling emotions to do this. This one is tough to master and is akin to poetry -- either you have an ear or not.


Enough all ready! You have tons to think about. I hope that awareness of these types of scenes will help you create better stories because I am always looking for something to read. I will see you next week with more about scenes.

No doodles, I'm on the road to Rockwall, TX visiting relatives.

Here is a quote for your pocket. 

Only one who devotes himself to a cause with his whole strength and soul can be a true master. For this reason mastery demands all of a person. Albert Einstein.

Novel Craft: 5 Common Scene Problems

Hi folks, I'm continuing my series on scenes. Last week I discussed the basic scene. You must be able to produce it in fluent way to create viable stories. This week, I'm going to discuss common problems that I've encountered reading and writing scenes.This is a working writer's perspective. Here is a list of 5 common scene problems.

1. The author understands who is in the scene but fails to communicate this to the reader.  Five or more characters in a scene are rattled in succession and the writer expects the reader to get it. The author offers little or no explanation to the identity of Rocket, Apple, Kal-el, Blue, and Ocean. Very few authors are competent with multiple characters in a scene. This is a complex skill. If you are struggling, (i.e. beta-readers read your book and say, I don't know who all these people are) allow only one to three characters per scene. If you want to bring someone into a scene, send someone out to more easily manage characters on scene.

2. The author uses specific but unimportant details to orient the reader which provide no sensory input.  Scenes are riddled with: this is on the left, this is on the right, five minutes later, seven minute after that, up there, over there. Take a lesson from the masters of art. Focus on the important  physical and sensory details. The shiny knife, the eyes, the sound of the voices, the smell of the pancakes (because that is always important). Smudge everything else. 

3. The author creates stilted dialogue. Every line is self conscious and unnatural. This happens for a number of reasons.One problem is forcing information into the dialogue that readers need to know. Take it out and hide it in the exposition or delete it altogether. No one wants a conversational info dump. Another problem that hampers scenes, dialogue goes on too long and the reader snoozes. Remember, things need to happen in books at least occasionally. One more problem is lack of texture between the characters. The author fails to create a unique voice for each character in the story. This is wholly annoying. You know who I'm talking about -- put a "cheesy author name" here. 

4. The author repeats characters' interior thoughts over and over. Oh, this is a scene killer. Your main character might internally wail about the 37 reasons she doesn't like her life. The reader got it the first time. Totally.  Look for duplicating thoughts and back down to one. And, oh, your scenes will be much, much more authentic if you do this. Also watch out for divergent thoughts that flip and flop like oxygen starved minnows. The main character thinks one thing -- Rocket makes my world go around -- and then another -- Rocket has destroyed my universe -- and then yet another -- Rocket doesn't know I'm alive -- and then  -- Rocket reminds me of a doodle bug.  Cohesiveness, folks. The main character is unreliable and not in a good way. The reader rolls her eyes and skips ahead in the book. She never buys another book by this author.

5.  The author is in love with the description. Yes, I know there are a few writers that are masters of description, but  generally loads of description just make the scene a muddy mess. It hurts to cut twenty beautiful lines and only leave one. I understand, but  no one wants to wade through all that description. Stick to the action, the dialogue, the emotions, the interior thoughts and decisions.  Your scene will thank me.  Note, you do need some description. No one wants floating talking heads either. Use the description sparingly, like salt.

Okay, there you go, some real life scene problems. Think about your scenes. Tighten them up. Your story will thank you. I will be back next week with more about crafting scenes.


Here is the doodle: "Sleep Walkers"

Here is a quote for your week: I hope you feel this way about story.

I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me-like food or water. Ray Charles

Novel Craft: The Basic Scene

Hi folks, welcome to a brand new year. I'm looking forward to it. My new book PLUMB CRAZY comes out in May. Here is the link at Goodreads if you wish to add it to your to-read shelf.  I can't wait to see what happens next. I hope you feel the same way.

In January, I like to explore an aspect of novel craft, and this year I'm going to chat about scenes. I'm not writing from the literary perspective, but from the working writer perspective. For me, scenes are the engine of story. Each scene drives the story forward and upward. Here is a visual picture. Have you seen a lift going up a mountain? The gondola moves from pole to pole along a wire.  The wire is the plot. The gondola is the main character, the mountain is the setting, and the distances traveled between the poles are the scenes.

The basic scene works like this. Something happens. A hottie guy enters the crowded lunch room at the same time as your mc (main character) girl.  Next, your mc girl emotionally reacts to the thing that happened. She might blush or throw her broom at him or maybe she steps back and slips on a banana peel, tossing her lunch tray into his face. Next, the boy says something emotionally charged to the mc girl. The mc girl says something emotionally charged back. These two can go at it for up to three exchanges with the mc girl's internal thoughts and bits of the setting mixed in. The emotional stew bubbles over. The mc girl has a thought about what all this means.  Like: Oh, hot guy hates me. Oh, hot guy will now date my worst enemy Mad Minnie. Oh, hot guy will never ask me to the prom now. Finally, the mc girl  makes a decision. I'm not just getting out of the lunch room, I'm going to skip school. She acts on that decision.  And off we go to the next scene.

The basic scene is all about showing the story. Your reader is brought into the action and dwells inside the mind of your main character. Think about this, basic scenes are an exchange between two or more characters. If you put more people into your scene, you have just made your storytelling job much harder. Most scenes have two or three active characters in them. The rest of the characters are part of the setting.

A long basic scene is the length of a chapter. Often chapters have two basic scenes. Sometimes, a chapter might have three scenes, but most of the time only two of those scenes will be basic scenes. The other scene will be a transition scene which is generally some narrative to pass the time or move from one place to another. Or it might be some mc internal dialogue that expresses the deep feelings of your mc -- I call these soliloquy scenes because they remind me of soliloquies in Shakespeare. I'll cover these scenes in a later post, so check back.

I did not invent the scene. I read many novels and got in the habit of noting where scenes begin and noting where they end . I also studied. Elements of Fiction Writing: Scene and Structure by Jack Bickman is my go-to handbook for scene writing. This is one handy book. You would do yourself a favor to read it.

You must become an expert of the scene to effectively write novels.  There is no way around this. You can have grammar, plot, setting, and character down 100%, but if you can't write scenes, you can't write a novel. This is important, folks!

I will be back with more next week about scenes. I will see you then!  Seize the day!


Here is the doodle: Thunderhead.

And finally a quote for your pocket.

For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
(Little Gidding) T.S. Eliot

My Favorite Things -- Simple Stuff

Hi, folks,

Last week I offered some conference kernels that are my favorite things. This week I'm at the KidLitCon in Austin, TX. There is some simple stuff that moves me to tears. I think these moments are part of why I am a writer.  Jerry Spinelli once said at a conference I attended that you should write down a hundred sensory memories. He said your novel is in there somewhere. He was right.

The moon in the daytime.
The sun shining like a disk on a foggy morning.
Bare feet on hot sand.
The smell of mint.
The taste of water when I'm thirsty.
Stretching out on a soft bed when I'm tired.
Watching giant snowflakes fall.
The sound thunder in the middle of the night.
The sound of a purring cat.
The feel of a dog licking my face.
The sensation of falling when swooshing on a slide.
Fall light in the afternoon.
Hugging my children.
The brown of my husband's eyes.
My father's laughter.
My mother's voice when she was reading me a story. 

I know all so simple but the core of me is in here. I hope you try writing your sensory memories.

See you next week.

Here's this week's doodle. "Stack of Farm Animals"

A quote for the week.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,

To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.'    Elder Joseph Brackett

My Favorite Things -- Conference Kernels

Hi folks!  This month I'm so busy. Crazy busy! I hope to see a few of you at the the KidLitCon in Austin, Texas on November 9, 2013.  I salute all the Nanowrimos! Good for you.

This month I'm going to share my favorite kernels of creative advice from wherever they have come my way.  This week I'm focusing on conferences.

Liza Ketchum -- Her talk flowed through my work like a spring Zephyr. Her advice? Use endowed objects to show emotional connections between characters.  You can do so much with this. Perhaps there is a ring. The golum has the ring. The hobbit has the ring. Everyone wants that ring.  You know you can get a lot of mileage out of an endowed object changing hands. You don't have to say anything more than the ring changed hands.

Brian Floca -- I walked around mumbling for a couple of weeks when I heard this guy talk. His deal was that you need to seek your best work and go for it.  Don't settle for a less than stellar career. Whatever is humming in your heart? If your soul is screaming, I have so much more to offer. Do it. Jump up. Namaste.

Mark Siegel -- This guy's talk took me by then neck and throttled me. I swear. He shared that the creative process is either dying or being born. You are either are coming from the outside and seeking the bright light. You see it, but it is out of your reach.The trip toward that light is a painful, digging deep process, and you will come to the end of yourself to reach that light.  Death.  The creative process can also work this way. You are in the light, dancing, full of it, but no one is with you. You are alone. You must go a narrow, harrowing journey, to reveal your light to the world. Birth. It's been years, and I'm still thinking.

Well, I hope some of this genius will help you do your thing. I'll be back next week with more of my favorite things.

This week's doodle: "Psalmist"

Here is the quote of the week:

A miracle is when the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. A miracle is when one plus one equals a thousand.   Frederick Buechner

Pitfalls -- Stagnation

Hi, folks, I'm continuing my series on writing pitfalls. I've done several of these: Formula, Amalgam, Too Eager, No Velcro, Choking, Distraction  This week is a problem I called stagnation. 

You have a great idea and write the book, but something happens between the idea and production. The story falls apart.  What you envision in your head is not working. You have produced an absolute mess. Your critique partners cringe when you bring it into group. Months roll into years, and you are still pecking this project that seems to never move forward.  You are stagnating and this is not a good thing. 

There are two outcomes for this project. One, you will reinvent it, or, two, you will let it go. There is no middle ground for this. The only way to solve stagnation is to shove the project in a drawer for a long while (at least a year). You will be able to save some of these projects, but not all.  I have a few files that I've written on in bold caps: CLOSE THIS FILE RIGHT NOW! IT'S OVER.  I don't delete projects; they may be organ donors, but I do know when it is time to turn my back on a story.

How? Identification. I stop pecking at the mess and name what is wrong with the thing. Your critique partners can help with this too. It might be a marketing problem: No one wants a picture book about kids killing bugs...your whole premise is just not going to work. It might be a plot problem: The twenty seven murders are dragging this book down. Not all the problems are glaring: Your fantasy world and real world might disconnect.

The bottom line, you must identify the  manucscipt problem.Then fold your cards and get out of the game. Drain the writer's swamp by removing this blockage.  Let the dang manuscript go and run with another idea.  

I hope that you move out of any stagnant waters and streak forward with projects.  This is like decluttering your house. You will breathe easier. I will be back next week with more good stuff.

Here is this week's doodle: "Flamingo!"

 

But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation. Arthur Conan Doyle

Story Structure: Fasteners (MicroTension)

Hi, folks, time to wrap up my posts on story structure. This month, I am using analogies with building structural elements to shed some light on story structural elements. These analogies only go so far. I hope you find something useful. I'm going to compare micro tension to fasteners in buildings. Micro tension is what holds your book together.

Nails and screws are tiny metal spikes that are driven into wood. Bolts are metal pins inserted through wood. Cleats are angle iron pieces used to strengthen wood. You get the picture. Structures are fastened together with buckets of small pieces of metal. This week is all about the fasteners that hold your book together. 

Stories have many kinds of bits that hold them together. Without all these bits your story will fall apart. You are the master craftsperson and your decisions -- where to use fasteners and what fasteners to use -- will ultimately define your structure.

Here are some of the fasteners that you will use to make your structure hold together:

EMOTION -- This fastener is used for character. You must dig into what your character is feeling and shade your wording to capture that feeling exactly.  Many people are turning to THE EMOTION THESAURUS by Angela Ackerman and Betsy Puglisi to sharpen the emotional expressions of their characters.

LYRICISM -- This fastener is about the words. You can go over the top with it, but tiny touches of brilliant lines (you know the ones you jot down because you have never heard that thought expressed so well) stitch your book together. Your book needs the wordsmith in you to do better.

SENSORY -- This fastener is used especially in setting. You must make your readers feel. Every book has a sensory psyche that creates mood. Setting must engage all five senses, and you will turn yourself inside out trying to find the perfect vivid descriptors. Do it. Surpass yourself.

SOUL -- This fastener is used to shore up theme. Stories must say something. Tiny fiery thoughts embedded throughout your story will give it a soul. Yes, you challenge readers. Slap them. Wake them up. Infuse your story with immaterial bits. What are you circling?

SUBTEXT -- This is a dialogue fastener.You must create tension by having your characters say one thing but mean another. Look closely at dialogue. Are your characters saying things they should be thinking?  

SUFFERING -- This fastener is used to hinge character and plot. This isn't just about one more stupid thing happening to your character. You must do what rips out her heart, defeats her soul, breaks her spirit, ruins her life ... dang, writing is hard.

SURPRISE -- This is another plot fastener. It is all about finding the uncertain instead of the expected.  Turn corners that are unexpected. Contrast characters, moods, settings in interesting ways. This tension keeps the reader with you. Take our breath away, please...

TRANSCENDENCE -- This fastener is a big risk one and isn't found in every book. If it works, you will never be forgotten, If it doesn't work, it will wreck your whole book. It takes chutzpah to use this one. Well crafted foreshadowing leads to that moment when the reader is like: Did she really go there? It's shocking. Readers will freak out. Blog posts will fly. Think about those moments that you can never forget  in your reading experience and then let that into your creative blood and see what happens. Does your structure need this?

Be aware of the fasteners that hold your book together. Place each carefully with confidence. Donald Maass in his book FIRE IN THE FICTION has some good thoughts about micro tension that may be of some use to you. Whew, this was a big topic. I hope that you have enjoyed this series. Come back next week for my next series: Pitfalls in writing.

 Here is this week's doodle:  Abstract in watercolor

And finally a quote for your pocket.

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. Walt Whitman. 

Story Structure -- Beams

This week I'm talking about story structure. This is the second in a series. I'm using building element analogies in my discussions this month. I'm going to compare beams to chapters. I am also suggesting you that you go back to my previous story structure posts.  I hope that you find something here that resonates.

Beams are a structural element of housing that bear the load of the structure. Each chapter must also carry some of the load of your story. Unnecessary beams add weight to your structure and make it unsound. Unnecessary chapters add weight to story, these chapters must be cut or they drag it down. Each chapter needs to move the story forward. If you can't answer the question: Why is this chapter in this book?" Toss it. Next, you need to have enough beams to hold up the weight of your house. The same for stories. Missing chapters can be problem. An author, in a desire to get to the "good stuff" of the action, leaps ahead, missing sections in stories that make the work seem slight. Finding the right length and number of the chapters takes tons of practice.

Beams are connecting structural elements and so are chapters. Each chapter must truly fit with the one before it. It must be securely attached.  Each one leads to the next. How is this achieved? Beams are bolted together, so are good chapters. If your character is falling asleep at the end of a chapter, you leave yourself with with little to connect to the next chapter, other than to wake up. I caution, use "the sleeping character chapter transition" sparingly; it weakens your story. A good choice is to find the place something interesting happens for your character snoozes and end the chapter there. Start the next chapter when the an interesting thing happens not when the gal wakes up.

For example if your gal falls off a cliff and ends up on a ledge, end the chapter there, not when she falls asleep on the ledge. Don't start the next chapter when she wakes up, but when the surprise solution to that cliff problem shows up (perhaps the hot guy tries to help and they both fall into the river -- you know something unexpected), readers will want to turn the page. You have bolted your chapters together. Look at the beginning of chapters and think about bolting them to the previous chapter. Always connect chapters with high action or emotion.

Beams form corners in buildings. So major turns in stories happen at chapter ends that segue into chapter beginnings. If a beam is too long, the house collapses. If a chapter is too long, the story collapses. Perhaps the action goes on for twenty pages, the story really sags. Perhaps there are long descriptive passages for a dozen pages, the story sags. Cut to make it work. A good trick is go to the mid-point of the saggy chapter and cut the chapter in half. This often reveals what you need to cut or add. Do the work to make your story structure strong.

Here are my thoughts on short chapters. If a beam is too short you don't leave enough room under it for the rooms to be created.  This doesn't mean you can't have a short beam.  It's just, if all the beams are really short, it weakens the story. I am seeing stories these days with extra short chapters. These books tend to have hundreds of chapters. I find this weakening stories. It's a cinematic approach to writing. I'm not saying you can't be successful with it. I mean, straw huts don't have beams. It is viable form of building and it has been around forever. But stories can be so much more than huts. (Yes, I am saying that cinematic film offers a very limited story-telling structure). In the end, I'm asking you to consider if you can say more by varying chapter length.

OK!  You have some chapter stuff to think about.  Remember this is just an analogy and that they only go so far. I hope that you move forward with projects and create master works.

Here is another abstract piece: Transparent Olives

.Tuck this quote in your pocket:

Rexamine all that you have been told... dismiss that which insults your soul. Walt Whitman.

Story Structure -- Ridge Beam

Hi folks, I will spend the month of June sharing what I have learned about story structure in my writing journey. Here is a link to my previous series on this topic, covering five important structural components to story plots.  This month I will draw a series of analogies to building structure to help illuminate structural components of stories.

First up is the ridge beam. This seriously important beam connects the trusses of a roof. It's the beam the rafters connect to. It's basically the part of the building that brings us under one roof.  Stories need singular focus to work. In a way they need to bring our readers under one roof.  You will create this ridge beam for your story by understanding what your character wants. This one desire must be clear from the get go and all other desires must subordinate to it. It's a simple concept with satisfying results.

Some authors write characters that want too many things, like they have mommy issues, they want true love, they desire to have successful careers, they hunger for fame, etc.  The reader  has to look in so many directions as they take the story journey, and by the end of the book, they don't care. What is important is that the author chooses one ridge pole from these many desires and uses the rest as rafters.  Subordinate ideas to the main beam through your story and your readers will thank you. 

Another mistake is switching your main character's desire mid-stream. This breaks the roof over your story unless you are very careful  and resolve that desire and place a new one in place and stick to it.  Mostly desire switching just creates a mess. Proceed with extreme caution. Another huge problem is a character who just doesn't want anything. This story needs a roof to bring all those great ideas together. Dig into that main character's psyche and figure out what's going on. Your readers will rejoice.

HINT: If you can't easily communicate what your main character wants in a sentence or two, you don't know and need to figure that out.

Laser focus on the want of a character throughout a story rivets readers. It holds them in place within your construct  Your job as a writer is do whatever you can to not give your character what she wants, thwarting her desire, exploring the consequences of her desire, and finally letting your character obtain her deepest desire or not obtain it by uncovering the tragedy unfullfilled desire.

Trust your ridge beam and create powerful stories that readers will not wat to put down. Come back next week for more on story structure. I hope you find help here to craft stories for the ages.

Here is this week's doodle: Abstract #1

Finally a quote for your pocket

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world. Walt Whitman.

Blooming: Setting

Hi, folks: I'm continuing my blog series Blooming, and I'm keeping with the list-y format. I'm offering pre-writing activities for setting this week. Authentic setting will make your stories pop!  I hope that something here helps you utilize place within your stories like it is a living breathing character. 

Travel -- One powerful way to create setting is to go there. Here is a link to Stephanie Meyer's trip to Forks, WA.   Take a camera, a notebook, a recorder and go crazy!  Don't  be shy. Talk to old timers, visit old houses, tromp through historical sites, and tiptoe through graveyards!

Shop -- I have more than one friend that shops for vintage photos on eBay. I also like to rummage around in antique shops. Remember a picture is worth a thousand words.

Maps -- I love Google Earth. Man, it is addictive. At Google Maps you can get directions to drive, take transit, walk or bike there. Very handy.  I also like Map Quest.  Here is a link to 3-D virtual room software.  I also am a pretty handy doodler and create maps for my fantasy and sci-fi worlds. If you don't doodle, try fantasy map making software like at ProFantasy Software.

Model -- Here is a link to Dollhousecity. You might want to but miniature set of furniture for a room. Here is a Wooden Dollhouse Set from Amazon. This can be handy if you have a fight scene and need to toss some furniture around.  Exactly how does a chair look that is tossed out a window? I mean you could really toss a chair out the window or ....

Archives -- Did you know almost all major cities have online photo archives?  Here are a couple to get you started.   Here is NYC Municipal Archives.  Here is a link to the City of Houston Gallery.  Newspapers also have photo archives.  Here is one to the Chicago Tribune. I am also a big fan of the digital collections at the Library of Congress.

If you are in doubt, Google it. 

I think following up with some of these pre-writing activities are a great way to build strong story bones.  I hope that you are moving forward with your project.

Here is this week's doodle:  "Dandelion".

Here is a quote for your pocket.

All the ideas in the universe can be described by words. Therefore, if you simply take all the words and rearrange them randomly enough times, you’re bound to hit upon at least a few great ideas eventually. Sausage donkey swallows flying guillotine, my love assembly line.
 Jarod Kintz

Reflections: Symbolism

I'm spending the month reflecting on the the topic of theme, but I find I want to expand a little. Theme isn't like developing a plot, fleshing out characters or filling out the setting. Theme is about adding deep complex layers to storytelling. These layers must remain invisible and move readers. I've talked about theme, but another way to add abstract layers is through symbolism. This week I jumping to theme's close cousin.

Symbolism is all about tokens, emblem, signs that take on extra meaning within the confines of your work.  Red balloons, gold rings, ringing bells, blue skies, gusty winds, chicken legs, umbrellas -- you know the list of symbols is endless. I find that symbols are a good way to cut through the slog of exposition, toss it aside, and find the binding threads underneath your story.

These symbolic threads are tangled up with your theme threads. Plot, character and setting are intertwined forming a woven fabric. Symbolism and theme are pressed together forming a non-woven fabric -- a felt. Have you ever tried to cut felt with scissors? Not an easy thing. Felt is very dense; all the fibers are so tightly interlocked. In a similar way, theme and symbolism twine together forming this dense layer underpinning your story. You can pick apart plot, character and setting -- the weave is looser -- but it is much more difficult to dig into symbolism and theme of your story.

Symbolism often serves as a handy tool to ditch long narrative explanations from main characters.  Perhaps you character finds a penny the day her mother dies. She keeps this penny in her pocket as she faces the monsters threatening her life.  She pulls out that penny in quiet moments.  Instead of digging into the mother's death, the penny serves a symbol for readers, it brings your readers' thoughts into play. They assign meaning to the penny.  You are inviting them into your story.

Using symbolism means you don't have hook your reader through the nose and tell them, "Hey, the main character is suffering and pay attention." A powerful symbol will whip all kinds of thoughts up in your reader. Your reader will insert their own take on the meaning. Good books have a hidden conversation going on between the reader and the writer. Never forget that.

Look for opportunities in your work to cut down the exposition by giving some of the weight of meaning to symbolic elements. Think about thematic and symbolic elements as your write but don't dig.  Just let the weight of the story press together your elements forming that rich texture. I hope this little discussion speaks to you and gives you an idea or two.  I'll be back next week with more stuff.

Here is a doodle for you -- "Pink Bunny."

The most important thing in a work of art is that it should have a kind of focus; that is, there should be some place where all the rays meet or from which they issue. Leo Tolstoy

Reflections: Thematic patterning

Hi, folks, I'm continuing my series on theme.  I've defined theme and then talked about "leitwortsil" which  means "leading word style",  the repetition of words and and roots to support a theme. This week I'm expanding to thematic patterning or motif.

One big way to get theme on the page and through to the reader is by repeating imagery. This is the world of types and shadows, and I have a particular love for it. Imagery involves all the senses. You might repeat a sound, a texture, a visual, or even a movement. For example, perhaps you repeat a scouring wind to evoke a sense of the emptiness of life or repeat a buzzing sound to echo your character's inability to fulfil her obligations. If you have a particularly powerful sensory scene in your WIP, consider repeating an element of that scene throughout the work to shore up what you are trying to say. How do you know which element? Go with what is provocative or feels right.

You might move beyond the senses, and repeat something organic like a sense of fatigue -- this might come out in a worn-out couch, shoes with holes in them, a character who can't get out of bed, a town dying, and bird floundering in the backyard because it's too tired to continue on its migration journey -- all images of fatigue. Upon examination of your work, you might see that you have naturally added two or three pieces to a thematic pattern, but could add a few more for effect.  Look for these opportunities to strengthen your theme.

What is important is repetition throughout your book. (If you are like me, you might find that some images are repeating across your work!) The subconscious is a part of storytelling and you must allow it to rise and spice your work with patterns. You won't always know what you are about when you are repeating an imagery. It may just give you a sense of completion. I say go with it.

There is no way I can cover everything that has to do with theme in this series but I hope that you are gleaning tidbits to help your work.  As always, seize the day. I will be back next week with more.


Here is a doodle: "Yellow stars."

A quote for your pocket.

To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life. Robert Lewis Stevenson.

Reflections: Leitwortstil

Hi, folks. I'm continuing my series about theme. Last week I chatted about what theme is. This week I'm going to dig into leitwortstil. My, isn't that a swanky word. It's an even more swanky idea, especially if you want theme to pop within your work.

The word comes from Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig, Jewish philosophers who translated the Hebrew Bible into German the early part of the 20th century. These two guys coined leitwortstil: "Leading word style."  So what is this style all about?  Throughout a narrative the author chooses to repeat a word or the root of word. This perfectly placed repetition helps readers grasp the meaning of a story. The root, word or phrase hits with punch. Leading words catch the readers attention, and most of all create a resonating moment of thought in the reader. My total thought about leitworstil is well-placed repetition can thrum thematic chords within your work.

You can move beyond leading words and use leading clauses and sentences. A innocuous repeated phrase in STAR WARS comes to mind that packs a mighty punch; "I've got a bad feeling about this." It's written for comedic effect but it also adds thematic strength to the storytelling. I feel the waves of meaning, vibrating in that sentence -- something about the irony of existence, something about this stuff always happens to me, something about  how I knew this was the wrong way to go and yet here I am caught in the glue.

The repetition makes us laugh, but under there we think. We connect. We commiserate. The waters of meaning are stirred up. We peek behind the veil. I absolutely don't think Lucas was intentionally stirring up theme when he wrote the line. It probably just felt right, and every time it repeated it kept feeling right. I really do think our instincts, impressions, and feelings must be listened to when folding theme into the mix.

Hope this makes you think about leading words. Next week I will expand, and dig into thematic patterning. I hope you come back for more on theme.  Meanwhile, seize the day. 


The doodle this week is from my daughter Jubilee: "Handstand."

 



Finally a quote for your pocket.

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.. Helen Keller

Reflections: What is theme?

Hi, folks, I will spend the month of March reflecting about theme. I'm going to pick apart some things I know about it. I carry around a theme toolbox and  will talk about  my theme tools and how and when to use them. At the end of the day the topic of theme would take an entire book to unpack, and I can give you teacup worth of understanding. Hopefully, I will pour out some useful advice.

First up, I'm going to dig into what I think theme is. It's illusive and about the half of the very talented authors I know to refuse to think about it when they write. To quip Bob Dylan in his song "Gates of Eden":

At dawn my lover comes to me
And tells me of her dreams
With no attempts to shovel the glimpse
Into the ditch of what each one means

Some of my author friends feel that theme needs to be tossed into the background and grow organically out of the story. They don't try to shovel into the ditch of what they mean. This is a valid way to go.  Many authors have no idea what their theme is while writing. There is some element of theme that is very subconscious. Never forget that.

There are some misconceptions about theme out there. Here is what is not: a message, a moral or a thesis.  I run across authors occasionally who use storytelling as a platform for their messages or moralizing or pontificating. Uh, no. These folks usually think their preachy-teachy mess is theme. Uh, no. Please trust your readers to think for themselves. Write sermons, parables, or non-fiction if your grandiose ideas must be spoon-fed. Move away from the fiction. Far away. 

So here is the teacup of what I know (finally). At the end of the day theme is a complex idea. For me, it is a universal view about life and how people behave that is revealed through an an author refining characters' actions in a specific window in space and time. (I know clear as mud, but at least worth thinking about.) Theme is indirectly presented in stories. Theme invites the reader to draw his own conclusions. Theme doesn't tell the reader what to think but it does require the reader to think.  Ethos, pathos and logos -- theme turns up this stew of conviction, emotion, and understanding. It's the glue that elevates a story.

I hope that this glue permeates your books. I hope that you find the divine in all  your creative endeavors. I will be back next week with more on theme.

Now the doodle: "Yellow Blobby."

Here is a quote for your pocket.

If there were only one truth, you couldn't paint a hundred canvases on the same theme. Pablo Picasso

Novel Craft: Polish

Hi folks, this is last in my series of novel craft.  I'm offering tidbits of advice to those that have completed solid drafts and want to take their novel up a notch.  This week I'm going to chat about polish. I'm dividing this into three categories: the global, mundane, and the sublime.

First the global look. Here are some questions to help you add polish followed by my fun answers.

• Is the timeline solid? It takes longer than five minutes to drive to Boston from Houston. Really.
• Does your story make sense?  You can't leave a character in a closed car for hours in a Texas summer. Nope. Highly illogical, says Mr. Spock.
• Does your pacing make sense in a global way? If all the action bunched at the front then nothing for pages and finally something happens at the end, you have to fix that.
• Does your character cry all the time? I hope not.
• Do you have any info dumps? You spent five pages revealing the backstory of you character through a guy talking to a basketball. All info dumps have to go. ALL! Dribble out the details 
• Did you add sufficient texture your characters to rise them up above the level of cliche? Add some quirks and makes some unusual decisions.
• Is your protagonist a snot at any time during your book? No one want to read about a snot. 
• Is any side character taking over the plot? Stop them! Perhaps they need their own book. I'm thinking sequel.

This list will add some shine to your story.

And now the mundane. My friend Kathy Whitehead has a saying: "Make the writing pretty." You have a solid story and know you are going to pick apart each line from beginning to end.  Is your language clumsy or wordy?  Purple language goes. This isn't 1920.  You want to clean up frequently used words  like there, was, it, -ly, had, have, feel. Next, check for words you abuse regularly. Clean it all up. I find tools like the fee based AutoCrit Editing Wizard can help with this stuff. Lovely writing is important and don't assume that your writing is lovely unless you analyze it.

And finally comes the extra polish; the sublime or the pixie fairy dust or the superhero power -- whichever way you roll. Stare out the window, take a nap, go for a walk and think about what your book is about. Is there another twist that would just take your book up to another level. Have you achieved what you intended? Warning this takes absolute honesty with yourself.  The sublime is just that. You are seeking out spiritual, moral, and/or intellectual depth in your story. Do you have any idea what were you were trying to say?  Did you get it across?  Here's the trick -- I'm sure you don't need to put this into words but you do need to know it. Is there anything in the universe that would make your purpose more clear?  Add that and then breathe. Well done!

I hope my polish thoughts help you. I hope you achieve your best book. :)  Seize the day.

Here is the doodle: Yellow-horned Thang.

Here is my quote for your pocket:

"Dimidium facti qui coepit habet: sapere aude" ("He who has begun is half done: dare to know!"). Horace

Novel Craft: End Games

Hi folks, I'm continuing my series of Novel Craft. This series is to help writers that have a solid draft and want to bring their work up another level. This week I'm going to write about the "End Games."

Today I'm going to offer three games I play to make my ending stronger, to make it more memorable, to make it more influential. This is going to be short to write. It will take you a while to do...

Okay, this is first game. Take your novel, your beloved perfect novel, and write a new end for it. I go to the last chapters and write in black marker: MAKE THEM SUFFER.  (Thanks to Gail Carson Levine for this enduring advice.) I go over every scene and I ask myself, "Am I avoiding agony?" I take every risk that I can think of when I play this game. I write the whole thing with again upped stakes. I don't keep all of it, but I do end up keeping some of it.  You will get very good at this game.

The next game is Reinvention. I write the end from a different point of view. Yes, go to the last three chapters and switch narrative mode.  If your are in third person, go at the whole chapter from first. Try it from the antagonist's point of view. Try it from the best friend's point of view.  Try stream of conciousness. You will find surprises. I guarantee it.

Now the final game, is called "What came after". I don't know why, but I try to tie things up too early.  This game is about writing what happens a week after your story ends, then jumping ahead a year, and finally jumping ahead a decade and writing what happens. Did your characters stay hooked up? Bummer, I thought this was everlasting love. Did your character end up being more awesome than you thought? That's a good thing.

I hope one of my "End Games" helps you create a stronger book. Be brave and inventive. Don't hold back!  See you next with more Novel Craft.

This week's doodle: Sock Monster.

A quote for your pocket:

I do the very best I know how - the very best I can; and I mean to keep on doing so until the end. Abraham Lincoln

Novel Craft: The Big Picture

Hi folks, I'm continuing my series of Novel Craft. This series is to help writers that have a solid draft and want to bring their work up another level. This week I'm going to write about the "Big Picture."

I have noticed that writers whose books sell have really thought about their novels in global ways. Much of writing is micro-driven. It's about the words and the sentences and the paragraphs. Then it is about the chapters.  At some point you need to pull that camera-eye back so far that your is looking at the book. Embrace the macro.  

How do you refine the big picture of the book?  It takes massive blocks of time.  You must read your novel from end to end, a few times running. It's the only way to get an accurate sense of what is going on in your novel. As you read, keep tabs on through-threads in your story -- this includes endowed objects, themes, side plots, and the timeline. Look for incomplete promises. Did you promise to solve something but never get around to it? Either pull the promise or complete it.

You also want to be sure that you characters are working. Do your characters grow organically, or is all the growth clustered in one area of the book.  You do want some stops and starts -- a book is a little bit like a roller coaster ride. A very tame ride that putters through a colorful but uninteresting landscape is not worth a reader's time. Throw your character off some cliffs. Wreck their car. Kill their best friend. Betray them. Add surprises, twists and falls to strengthen your characters. The usual stuff: find humanity in a baddie, find a monster is a goodie, have everyone really mess up. Note places of blandness and think of ways to add emotional drama and exciting action. Don't forget to lighten things up, dashes of comic relief will help reader's embrace the story journey.

The most important thing is to read the book from cover to cover a few times. What needs to be done will be glaringly obvious. I promise.

Come back next week for more Novel Craft. Meanwhile, seize the day!

This week's doodle: "Blue Fox."

A quote for you pocket.

Love is the outreach of self toward completion.  Ralph W. Sockman.

Novel Craft: Side Characters

Hi, folks, I'm a novelist and like to spend January chatting about novel crafting.  Novels are huge undertakings and take some serious work.  This series is about practical advice for those with a complete novel draft.  Once you have a substantial draft, you must fine-tune your novel.  During this stage of novel crafting, you must leverage each element of your novel. How is this done? I will spend this month offering tips and suggestions to add texture and depth to your novel. This week I'll focus on side characters.

Solid drafts have powerful main characters that are fully realized. They have interesting and complex plots. The settings are also rich and detailed. Even with all this in place, your book is not complete. This is the time to add dimension to your story. One way to do this to pay close attention side characters. It's important to make sure that each one of your characters is uniquely distinct from all other characters in your story. There is nothing more annoying than a story with one-dimensional side characters. Stereotypical side characters will also weaken your story.  You must take time to bring these side characters to life.

Look at them closely. Are they always making obvious choices? Consider letting them make unusual choices that clash with the choices of the main characters of your story. What can your side characters do to surprise your reader?  Allow side characters to steal scenes. I learned a lot about side characters from Peanuts by Charles M. Schulz. This classic comic strip is packed scene stealers.
Main character Charlie Brown's friend Linus clings to his security blanket but speaks eloquently about matters of faith. His sister, Lucy, is the bully of the story, but is also the manager of the psychiatric booth, offering five cent advice. On top of that, she's an awful baseball player. These side characters shine.

Allow your side characters to grow. A side character can become quite significant. Think about Snoopy, Charlie Brown's pet dog, who began as a conventional dog but acquired alternative personas -- the Red Baron and Joe Cool. Snoopy is a struggling writer and is an excellent baseball player (note the contrast with Lucy-- defintely look for those opportunities.) . All the Peanuts characters have a unique slant.  Are you using your side characters to add color and depth to your masterpiece? 

Look at stories that have an ensemble approach for the best examples of side characters. Not every story needs an ensemble approach but every story will benefit from more complex side-characters. Come back next week for more advice to fine-tune your novel.  

Here is a doodle: "Rainbow".

A quote for your pocket!

A book is never a masterpiece: it becomes one. Genius is the talent of a dead man. Carl Sandberg