Editing freaks a lot of people out. Drafting is creative and inspirational, and every writer LIVES for that moment when you get into the groove and the words just flow. But editing is kind of the opposite. It’s analytical, with a rigid set of rules that have to be followed. I think this is why so many writers say it’s their least favorite part of the process.

I’m one of those weird people who love the revision stage. LOVE. IT. It’s one reason I started our monthly Phenomenal First Pages contest. I really like reading a passage of writing and picking it apart, examining it from a macro and micro perspective to see how it can be improved.

In the entries that I critique, I see a lot of the same mistakes, which means I offer a lot of the same suggestions. And one bit of advice that I say A LOT is Read your work aloud. It’s one of those little practices that are so simple but can help your story in huge ways. 

Why Does It Work?

The bottom line is that we can read in our heads super fast. But when we read out loud, we’re forced to form the words with our mouths, which takes more time. This results in a slower process, and when we slow down, the brain can more accurately see what it’s reading. 

Mental reading results in a certain amount of brain processing as we’re seeing, analyzing, and comprehending the words on the page. But reading out loud adds an auditory element as our brain not only sees the words but hears them, too. More processing is involved. More processing requires more brain power and leads to better editing, comprehension, and pretty much everything else the brain is doing at the time.

Bottom line? When you read your work aloud, you catch a lot more mistakes than when you zip through a manuscript mentally. Here are some of the issues that reading aloud can help you see and resolve.

1) Typos and the Like

We’re so familiar with our own stories that when we read them in our heads, our brain tends to see what it knows we meant to write rather than what we actually wrote. The process of reading aloud helps us see (and hear) the typos, misspellings, word omissions, and other minor mistakes that can result in a messy manuscript. So from a simple proofreading level, reading out loud can have a major benefit.

2) Poorly Structured Sentences

When we read out loud, we’re more likely to read the words the way they would be spoken. So when we get to a rambling or wordy sentence, we stumble. That verbal fumbling is a sign that the sentence isn’t clear and needs revision. It’s not as likely to happen when we read in our heads, so reading out loud is great step toward tightening the writing.

3) Repetitions

One thing that catches the reader’s attention in a bad way is repeated words and sentence structures. Three sentences in close proximity that start with I, multiple sentences that are structured similarly, or even repeated usage of a normally invisible word like cold—these repetitions can start to grate on the reader’s ears. Read those passages aloud, and the repetitions will grate on your ears, letting you know which words and phrases need to be rewritten.

4) Confusing Passages

When we’re not mentally racing through a paragraph, it’s easier to be more analytical, and one thing we should always be aiming for with our writing is clarity. Does this make sense? While reading aloud, you can keep questions like this in the back of your mind, and it will become more obvious when something is confusing or vague.

5) Pacing Issues

We all know what it’s like to read a scene that’s a little boring: we’re hit with the urge to skim ahead to the interesting parts. That skimming becomes more obvious with verbal reading because you hear yourself skipping content. Identifying the issues in our writing is sometimes the hardest part of the problem, and pace is one of those sneaky buggers that doesn’t announce itself. So slowing down and reading the words aloud can provide a better opportunity to see where the pace is dragging. (Psssst…it also works on the flip side, for passages with too-abrupt shifts.)

6) Unrealistic Dialogue

Readers are intimately familiar with dialogue because it’s how they communicate. So stiff, stilted, or unnatural dialogue is going to pull them right out of the story. Reading aloud can help you identify places where your character’s speech needs to be refined. Here’s what Browne and King, authors of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, have to say about this:

“We’re used to hearing relaxed, normal speech in real life. much of the stiffness in a passage of dialogue that doesn’t show up when you read your work silently will spring right out at you when you read out loud. You may find yourself making little changes as you read. If so, pay attention to these changes—your ear is telling you how your dialogue should sound.”

One of their suggestions is to have a friend read through a passage of dialogue with you, like it’s a screenplay. You can also record yourself reading a scene’s dialogue. Either way, hearing the dialogue spoken aloud will give you ideas on where it might not quite ring true.

7) Voice Inconsistencies

For me, getting a character’s voice right is one of the hardest things. Just figuring out all the nuances of a character’s individual voice is hard enough, but then you have to write it consistently through the entire story. But Browne and King come to the rescue again, with an interesting solution to this problem.

They recommend reading aloud each character’s point-of-view passages consecutively. By putting them all together, you remove any other character’s narration and can focus solely on one character at a time. This allows you to hear any inconsistencies in their voice.

8) Lack of Emotion 

A common issue that I see in critiques has to do with character emotion—the lack of it, to be specific. If we want to really engage readers, we have to tap into their emotions, and one of the easiest ways to do that is to clearly communicate the character’s emotion. Yet too often, it’s not clear what the character is feeling, so the reader doesn’t know what they’re supposed to feel.

When we read aloud, we tend to naturally read with inflection. If your reading sounds flat and dull, it’s very possible that it’s missing the important emotional piece. Examine your character. Is their emotional state clear? Is it being conveyed in a way that’s engaging for readers—shown, instead of told, through physical cues, internal visceral reactions, dialogue, and thoughts? 

The benefits of reading your work aloud kind of go on and on. I suggest verbally reading your whole manuscript at some point—not all at once, and not even consecutively. But reading every word aloud during the revision process is going to improve your story in lots of small (and not so small) ways, leading to a much more satisfying experience for your readers.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Want a Stronger Manuscript? Read It Aloud appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

The reality of being an author is no matter how well-written your books are, certain people will never read them because they don’t fit their personal preferences.

Here’s an example: I remember starting a book that had everything a good book is supposed to have: solid writing, likable characters, high stakes. It was a dystopian set in a future where there were no trees. Interesting premise, yes? I thought so. The lack of trees made for an arid, dusty, sterile-feeling environment, and the author did a masterful job of drawing that. But here’s the thing: as a reader, I’m kind of weird in that the setting is hugely important for me. I like settings that are rich and thick and textured—places I would like to visit or even live. This was not one of those places. The story was good, but I just wasn’t feeling it because I couldn’t totally buy into the setting.

Let me reiterate: nothing wrong with the book. It just happened to go against one of my personal preferences.

Here’s another example: Recently, I picked up two different books by favorite authors of mine. I was primed to really like both of these books, but I didn’t make it all the way through because they were written in a genre I don’t normally like to read. I was hoping that my love of their writing would get me past the genre, but it didn’t. That is all.

Other Books That Pretty Much Everyone Liked Except Me: The DaVinci Code. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. The Hunt for Red October. All great books. Couldn’t get into them. Why? I don’t know. They just weren’t my thing.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do to fix this problem because it’s not a problem—unlike the other reasons we’ve discussed in this series.

There isn’t something you’ve done wrong or need to change. Some people simply aren’t going to like your book, no matter how great it is. And there’s precious little you can do about it.

What you CAN do is…

1) Accept that some people just aren’t going to like your stuff

2) Write for the people who get you.

3) Study the craft. Practice, practice, practice, so you can put out a quality product that won’t contain the gaffes we’ve discussed in this series and cause your eager audience to toss your book aside within the first twenty pages.

And for the love of all that’s chocolate, if you review books often, please don’t pan a book because it wasn’t your cup of tea. Angela and I have run into this a few times, where we were given a bad review because the reader didn’t understand what our book was supposed to be about. If there’s something wrong with a story, by all means, let the review reflect it. But don’t discourage other readers from picking up a book simply because it’s not the kind that you prefer to read.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this series. I’ve learned a lot by figuring out why certain books didn’t work for me. Here’s hoping that we can put these ideas into practice so our readers keep reading, page after page after page.

Here’s the rest of this series on WHY Readers Stop Reading:

#7: Issues With Sequels
#6: Action Too Early
#5: Weak Writing
#4 Cliched Characters
#3: Too Much Going On
#2: Characters Who Aren’t Endearing
#1: Lack of a Clear Goal

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed It For Me #8: Personal Preferences appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Today’s pet peeve –to do with sequels–is more subjective and looks at why I may finish the first book but not read any of the rest.

As a reader, I have strong opinions about what works and what doesn’t. You may agree, you may want to stab me with your voodoo pins.

Either way, here are the reasons why, in the past, I’ve finished book one of a sequel but failed to read any of the rest:

1) Too Many Unanswered Questions. I recently read a paranormal thriller that had me RIVETED. It involved a killer on the loose, a tropical island, a curious weather pattern, a mysterious clique of fascinating but ominous people, and frequent vanishings. The stakes were clearly high, the characters interesting, the premise fabulous, and I was completely invested right up to the end. Then I finished the book. I slammed it shut, held it up for my husband to see, and made some form of unkind declarative statement that I won’t repeat here.

A lot of questions were raised in this book, and I think maybe two of them were answered by the end. The rest…well, you’ll just have to read the sequel to find out. Um, no. I was so confused (and pissed) when I finished, that I won’t be reading any of the sequels.

As authors, we have an obligation to our readers to deliver what we promise. If you give readers an indication that the hero’s eventually going to have a show down with the villain, you need to fulfill that promise and make sure it happens. In the same way, if you raise a bunch of important plot-based questions, the reader expects those important questions to be explained. Now, I’m not saying that everything has to be ironed out by the end of the first book. Far from it. But you have to answer enough of the questions so the first book makes sense on its own. Every book, even one in a series, needs a complete story arc. So please, for the love of all things literary, if you’re going to write a series, answer the pertinent questions at the end of the first book. Don’t be coy and mysterious and assume that readers will be intrigued by your ambiguity. No, they’ll just be annoyed. Let’s try to avoid that.

2) Too much elapsed time between books. I read a really popular first book in a series a few years ago. The second one came out in the fall; I put it on my reading list, and there it sits. Six months later. Still unread. I really liked the first book. I gave it four stars on Goodreads—high praise from me. I recommended it to friends when I was finished. But a year-and-a-half later, I just wasn’t into it anymore. Now, the books that I absolutely LOVE, it won’t matter how much time goes by before the next book is released: the Daughter of Smoke and Bone series, the Grisha trilogy, The Wicked and the Just (please please PLEASE, when is the sequel coming???). I snapped up (will snap up) these sequels as soon as they’re available. But, to be fair, these kind of LOVE books are few and far between for me. I may like a first book—I may really really like it—but if too much time passes before the next book in the series, I could very well lose interest and never another of those books.

So here’s my first suggestion for avoiding this, and please bear with me, because I know this isn’t possible for everyone: If it’s possible for you as an author, self-publish your series. This way, you can control the timeline and release your books at intervals that will keep readers salivating.

Now, I realize that this may not be possible if you’re working with a publisher. Readers may have to wait a year to eighteen months before seeing your next book and you may not be able to do anything about that. So here are two suggestions that may help tide readers over from one book to the next:

• Before the second/third/etc. book comes out, publish a summary of the previous books on your website. Sometimes, I find out a second book has come out, but I’m not really interested because so much time has elapsed that I can’t remember what happened in the first book. But if there’s a summary for the first book out there, I read it, and I remember why I liked that book. I get jazzed again and many times end up continuing the series.
• If possible, micro-publish related pieces in the interim. If your readers will have a while to wait between books, provide some related material that will give them a taste of your world/characters/story between releases. Write a novella from a minor character’s perspective (à la the supplements to Susan Kaye Quinn’s Mindjack series). Provide a short story that explains an important event from your hero’s or villain’s past. Now, I don’t know what limitations traditionally published authors might have in this area (maybe someone could chime in on this?), but your interim pieces don’t have to be books for sale. Post them to your blog and let everyone read them. Save them in PDF format and make them available for free download at your website. Send them to your newsletter subscribers. This is a great way to keep readers interested in your series during a long interim between releases.
• This is an idea I’ve been toying with, so it may not work for everyone (or anyone), but consider writing most of the series before starting to publish. I’m not a prolific writer by any means; this is one reason why I haven’t published fiction yet, because I can’t supply books as quickly as I’d like to. But, I figure if I get 2 or 3 books written before starting to publish, then I can release them in quick succession without keeping readers waiting.

As a reader, I love me a good series. Right now, I’m on book two of The Last Apprentice, which has apparently been out forever and WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME? As a writer,  sadly, I’ve got few personal words of wisdom to share. But that’s what friends are for, right? Janice Hardy’s got 7 tips for you on writing a series and Joanna Penn has some great advice on avoiding continuation issues when writing a series. Jami Gold’s started an interesting discussion on if you should even learn how to write one. And then there’s Holly Lisle, who I wish was my friend, offering a video-series workshop on How to Write a Series. Enjoy! 

Read all the “What Killed It for Me” Posts.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed It For Me, #7: Issues with Sequels appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

We’ve likely all encountered stories that open with an explosion, plague, car chase, alien abduction, fist fight, or other volatile scene involving a main character that we know virtually nothing about. And for certain genres (thrillers, action, etc.), this can work. But most of the time, this kind of opening doesn’t engage me because I end up confused and uninterested. Why? To care about what’s happening to the character, I have to first care about the character.

To care about a hero, readers should know what he wants and what’s at stake if he doesn’t get it. They’ve also got to respond to him emotionally on a certain level if they’re going to empathize with him and his circumstances. Readers need to have a feel for this stuff before the main character gets thrown into the arena or accused of espionage. If the cart comes before the horse here, it’s likely that readers won’t be drawn in and may not continue reading.

So how do we avoid this problem in our own writing?

1. Don’t start with the main action. Personally? I need to see the character in her real world before the main conflict arises. This provides contrast, pitting the old safe-but-somehow-unsatisfactory world against the crazy new one. It also gives me a chance to get to know the hero before her world is turned upside down. So if your story is about people surviving an ebola outbreak, don’t open with the hero’s mother bleeding from the eyes. If it’s about a woman living in the aftermath of divorce, don’t open with her husband leaving her. Give readers a chance to care about the hero before the main conflict arises, and readers will be more inclined to stick around to see what happens to her.

2. Avoid gimmicky opening action sequences. I made this mistake in one of my first novels. My book opened with the main character running through a field, breathing heavily and casting frantic looks over her shoulder. Readers assumed she was being chased, and she was. But when it turned out she was just playing hide-and-seek, they were not amused. The opening came across as contrived, which is fitting, since that’s exactly what it was. Readers are smart. They know when they’re being deceived or manhandled, and like anyone with any sense, they don’t like it at all. (This is one of the reasons why opening dream sequences rarely work.)

The thing is, enthralling stories that suck readers in don’t have to start with action. Look at The Hunger Games. Talk about action-packed—yet, it opens with the main character waking up. Collins could have opened her book at half-a-dozen later points in the story, and there would have been a lot more going on. But those openings wouldn’t have worked, imo, because they weren’t the right place to start her story. And that brings us to something super important that you have to do…

3. Start your story in the right place. Somebody famous (I can’t remember who)  said that you should start your story just before the protagonist’s life intersects with the antagonist’s agenda. The Hunger Games is a great example. President Snow’s agenda is to strengthen his control over the people of Panem via the hunger games. Katniss has been to the reaping a number of times, but because her name hasn’t been called, her life hasn’t yet intersected with Snow’s agenda. That doesn’t happen until Prim’s name is picked. Had Collins started the story after that, the opening would have been jarring and probably confusing for readers. Had she started much earlier than she did, the opening would have dragged.

All of that being said, books in certain genres—thrillers and detective stories, for example—are more likely to start things off with a bang, and readers tend to respond favorably. But whatever the genre, finding the right starting point is critically important in engaging readers early. (See Kristen Lamb’s post on this topic). Locate that magical point where the antagonist’s agenda intersects with the hero’s life. Open your story just before that collision, and you’ll likely be starting in a spot that will resonate with readers.

Read all the “What Killed It for Me” Posts.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed it For Me #6: Action Too Early appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

It’s hard to come up with characters who are believable yet don’t sound like every other character out there. It’s especially easy to fall into this trap with certain archetypes, like witty sidekicks or wise old mentors. Unfortunately, a recent book that I started had a whole cast of clichés: the jaded, super-sarcastic teen girl hero; the loving but confused single parent; a villain in the form of a Queen Bee Mean Girl. As for the love interest and sidekick…I didn’t stick around long enough to meet them.

But even one clichéd character may be too much; you don’t want to give readers a reason to lose interest or roll their eyes when they’re introduced to a character they’ve seen a dozen times. Character creation is one of our passions at Writers Helping Writers, thanks to the research and practice we put in while writing our negative trait and positive trait thesaurus books. Here are some tips we’ve learned on how to write believable and interesting characters without repeating the stereotypes:

Explore the character’s backstory to discover her wounds. It’s easy to throw together a bunch of attributes and flaws when creating characters. But traits develop organically out a combination of factors: upbringing, environment, basic needs, morals, past wounds, personal values, etc. It is this unique combination of elements that results in a truly unique character. To avoid recreating a character who already exists, delve deeply into her backstory. Doing so will give you the information you need to figure out exactly who she is today.

Once you’ve explored the character’s backstory, use that information to choose a combination a flaws and attributes that make sense, but are unique. For example, it makes sense for a character who was once the victim of a home invasion to be over-protective and paranoid. For me, the mention of those flaws instantly brings to mind an image—a stereotype that I’ve seen a million times. Paranoia is a logical result of this kind of traumatizing experience, but what if you combined it with other flaws or attributes to turn the stereotype on its ear? Maybe your character was raised in a very proper household where any kind of emotional extreme was taboo. So now you’ve got a genteel, mannerly character who’s scared of her own shadow—but has to hide her fears out of a desire to maintain the right image.

Creating unique characters is really just a matter of digging into their history and coming up with traits that make sense for them. For help in this area, we created a number of related resources on our Tools for Writers page, including the Reverse Backstory Tool, the Attribute Target Tool, and the Character Pyramid Tool.

Explore the positive side of negative traits, and vice versa. Clichéd characters are seen as clichés because they’re easy to read. They’re cardboard. One-dimensional. Which is ironic because character traits are anything but.

Look at John Bender, from the movie The Breakfast Club. He’s hostile, and embodies many of the expected negative associations that go with that trait: he’s volatile, verbally abusive, and has trouble connecting with others. But hostility also has some positive aspects that John exhibits. He’s fearless and uninhibited, often saying what other people are too timid to say themselves. The positive sides of this flaw make him more than just an angry character. They make him interesting and somewhat endearing because people value fearlessness and admire those who speak their minds. We want to evoke those endearing feelings in our readers, so make sure to explore both sides of your character’s defining traits and you’re sure to come up with someone unique and compelling.

Don’t forget the quirks and idiosyncrasies. Certain character types—like adventure heroes and detectives—easily fall into stereotypes. If you want your hero to be different, give him something interesting that will make him stand out from the crowd. Indiana Jones? Afraid of snakes. Captain Jack Sparrow is a cowardly pirate. And for those of you who remember Kojak, what comes to mind when you hear that name? Bald guys and lollipops, right? Mission accomplished.

A word of caution regarding quirks, though: if they’re thrown in off-handedly, they can feel clumsy and contrived. Find something that makes sense for your character based on his backstory and personality and you’ll have something that is believable rather than gimmicky.

Add an inner goal. Another reason detectives and adventurers tend to resemble each other is because they all have the same goal: to find the treasure or solve the case. But what if your character also has an internal goal—something he needs to overcome or wants to achieve that will result in personal growth?

In The Bone Collector, Lincoln Rhyme is an ex-forensics specialist on the trail of a serial killer in New York City. This is his outer goal: to find the killer. Just like any other detective story, eh? Except that Lincoln Rhyme is a paraplegic. That’s enough to make him interesting, but there’s more: it’s made clear from the beginning of the story that the thing Rhyme wants more than anything is to die. He’s made plans for his “final transition” and is seemingly at peace with it because he thinks this will make him more happy and fulfilled. 

By adding an internal goal, Deaver adds a dimension to his main character that makes him different from other detectives. Keep this in mind for your own heroes. For more information about internal goals and motivations, check out Michael Hauge’s Writing Screenplays That Sell.

Character creation is tricky, but with a little extra backstory digging and these tips, there’s no limit to the number of unique and resonant characters that we can create. Happy writing!

Read all the “What Killed It for Me” Posts.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed It For Me #4: Cliché Characters appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

The latest book I gave up on was a fantasy that was very promising, but also very confusing. Set in a make-believe world, it was based on a unique and fantastical element, containing an involved political hierarchy, a main character who didn’t know who he was or where he’d come from, and two separate point-of-view characters whose stories seemed unrelated.

Now, because fantasy is my favorite genre to read, I’m used to magical elements, complicated caste systems, and too many characters. But this one was just too much. As I read it, my brain was trying to figure out the political system, and where the hero fit into it, and who he really was, and how the magical element worked. And what was with the second narrator? Where did she fit in?

I see this problem sometimes with fantasy and sci-fi. I write mostly fantasy, and I have this problem myself. The author tries to make things so unique that the reader has to focus too much on assimilating new information and she can’t enjoy the story. But there are ways to introduce a whole new world—even one that needs explanation—in a way that won’t confuse readers.

City of a Thousand Dolls is a book that does this very well. In this story, there’s a rigid social/political caste system, a school for abandoned girls with its own separate hierarchy, talking cats, and shape-shifting characters who can turn into different animals. This story could easily be confusing. Instead, it’s deeply engaging with a strong sense of place. Here are some ways that Miriam Forster introduces her fantasy world without overwhelming readers:

1. Introduce new elements slowly. It takes awhile for readers to assimilate new information. If you throw too much at them at once, their brains can’t keep up and they either shut down and quit reading or they miss important information that will cause confusion later. Space out the introduction of new information so readers aren’t overwhelmed. Don’t try to jam it all into the first chapter.

2. When possible, show unique elements instead of telling them. Many fantasy writers make the mistake of stopping the story to explain some of the unknown bits. This kind of telling, especially at the beginning of a story, should be avoided because it a) drags the story to a halt while the author stops to explain stuff, and b) further slows the reader’s progress because she’ll have to pause later on to assimilate the given information into the current story. Instead of telling or explaining new elements, introduce them through the context of the current story.

One of the unique elements in City of a Thousand Dolls is something called an asar. To show what it is, Forster references it in context, and the reader is able to figure it out without even slowing down: Her satisfaction lasted only as along as it took for a group of girls to decide she was an easy target in her plain gray asar and untidy braid. And a few paragraphs later: She could imagine the House Mistress perfectly, her rust-brown asar wrapped so it came only to her knees, the short sword at her side. With these two context clues, the reader gets an idea of what an asar is without having to interrupt the story to figure it out. When it comes to fantastical elements, show whenever you can.

3. Don’t Reinvent the Wheel. As a fantasy author, I know our tendency to go a little crazy with the world-building. We’re so into our new world and its uniqueness that we come up with new inventions and new names for everything. But too much of this becomes tiring for readers. If you have a unique element, make sure it’s necessary. Forster’s asars play an important part in the story because they designate which house each girl belongs to. Through this article of clothing, she avoids having to identify each girl’s house when the characters are introduced. So think carefully before coming up with a new form of lighting, time telling, transportation, or messenger service. Keep the unique components that add to your story and stick with what already works for the rest. (For more tips on creating a believable setting, see this post on World Building Rules and Elements).

4. Simplify. Sometimes it’s not just the cool elements that we tend to overdo. It’s the plot line, setting, family history, political structure, etc. In many cases, these things can be simplified without taking anything away from the story. To see if your overall story has got too much going on, summarize it. If you can do so succinctly and listeners aren’t confused, then you should be able to write it in a way that readers will understand. If you share your summary and listeners have to ask questions to clarify, you either haven’t summarized it well or you’ve got too much going on. See what can be removed or pared back so the amazingness of your story can shine through instead of being overwhelmed. An added benefit of summarizing your plot line or setting is that it shows you what’s important. Whatever’s included in your summary should be introduced and clarified first. Then you can move on to the other stuff.

So. Now that I’ve shared my ideas…have you read any other-worldly books that were fully believable? What techniques did the author use to make the whole thing work?

Read all the “What Killed It for Me” Posts.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed It For Me #3: Too Much Going On appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

To better understand why readers stop reading, I’d like to talk about characters who don’t win us over.

I was browsing the library shelves and came across a book I’d never read by one of my favorite authors when I was a teen. It was a companion novel to a series I’d devoured—the paperbacks are literally falling apart on my bookshelf at home. Needless to say, before I’d read a single word, I was fully prepped to love this book.

Sadly, I didn’t.

The main character was mentioned in the original series but never made an appearance. Now I know why. He was surly, incredibly cocky, apathetic to the feelings of others, mean to a homeless dog that kept turning up, and had a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. Granted, he had a good reason for being so crabby. This, combined with my desire to love the story, kept me reading far longer than I normally would have. But by chapter four, I gave it up.

Character creation is tricky. Our heroes have to have flaws, but they can’t be so flawed that people would rather abandon them than share the journey. A book that achieves this balance flawlessly is one of my favorite reads of 2013: The Wicked and the Just. The story is incredibly well-written, but I also love it because it contains the most unlikable character I think I’ve ever read. And yet I cared about what happened to her. I not only finished the book, I now haunt the author’s website looking for the sequel. When I deconstruct Coats’ writing, I see some techniques she utilized to make her unlikable character not only bearable, but endearing:

High Stakes. The year is 1293, and Cecily’s father is moving them to occupied Wales, where tensions between the ruling English and subdued Welsh are high. It’s clear from the beginning that serious trouble is coming and Cecily will be smack in the middle of it. Though a character may be unlikable, readers can still empathize with her if her circumstances are dire. That danger doesn’t have to be physical, though. Circumstances that threaten a character’s emotional or mental wellbeing can be just as gripping. Look at John Nash from A Beautiful Mind. Whatever’s at stake, make sure it’s big and it’s clear, and readers may still root for an unlikable character.

Endearing Traits. Certain character traits are nearly universally admired by others: intelligence, wit or humor, feistiness. Cecily’s voice conveys all of these things. Though she’s selfish, manipulative, and sometimes mean, you’re drawn in because she’s funny, and though you don’t approve of her methods, you have to admire her for striving so hard for what she wants. To make a difficult character more palatable, give her some likable qualities, and readers just might buy in.

An Endearing Moment. Though Cecily’s admirable qualities are evident in her narrative, I don’t think that an entertaining voice is enough. Coats remedies this on page four by including a brief conversation between Cecily and two friends that reveals how brokenhearted they all are that Cecily is leaving. Though her good qualities are understated, the affection of her friends shows that someone truly likes her—that she’s worth liking. It’s downplayed, but it’s a classic Save The Cat moment. Show your character doing something likable or being likable in some way, and the reader will see that she’s not a lost cause.

One caveat: I’ve always believed that the main character has to be likable in some way for readers to make that magical connection. But after thinking on this for awhile, I think I’ve changed my tune. I mean, Scarlett O’Hara wasn’t likable at all. Will Hunting: not exactly a charmer. But these characters resonate with audiences. Why? Because they evoke an emotion that endears them somehow to audiences: they make them laugh, or elicit admiration, or evoke sympathy.

So if you’ve got a character that’s hard to love, utilize one or more of these techniques to draw out those endearing emotions, and you just might ensure that readers will keep on reading.

Read all the “What Killed It for Me” Posts.

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Killed it for Me #2: Characters Who Aren’t Endearing appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

I like keeping lists: Books To Read, Books I’ve Finished, Books I Want to Buy, and possibly the most informative one: Books I Didn’t Finish.

As a reader, it happens quite frequently that I’ll start a book, and for whatever reason, my attention wanes and I end up putting it down unfinished. As a writer, I want to know why this happens so I can avoid making the same mistakes in my own stories. The reasons behind a book’s failure to grab my attention are varied. Some of them I see often in books I read; some offenses I’m guilty of committing myself. Because of this, I figured I’d share what I’ve learned so we can all try not to replicate these errors in our stories.

For this first installment, I’m pulling from a book I was really looking forward to reading…well, let’s just call it Book A (I’m a positive person, and since this isn’t a review, the title doesn’t matter). Regardless, this book was historical fiction—one of my favorite genres that I find in short supply—and a retelling of an old myth. The cover was gorgeous and the back copy contained an accurate summary of the story. The writing itself was strong, the descriptions evocative. So what killed it for me?

In the first chapter of Book A, the heroine’s life had taken a dramatic turn which included a global move away from her family and friends to a place she’d never been. And when she got there, everything was great. Her new home was luxurious, her benefactor doting and accommodating. In this new place, she was actually better off than she’d been at home.

Zzzzzzzz…

I was underwhelmed at this point but continued on to chapter two, hoping things would pick up—and I did find a vague undercurrent of danger, the feeling that all wasn’t as it seemed. But it was too vague, too distant. The character wasn’t concerned, and she didn’t seem to be in any real danger, so I wasn’t worried about her. And I never made it to chapter three.

Clearly there was a lack of tension, but why? What was it about this story that put me to sleep? When I examined it further, I realized that I didn’t know the hero’s goal; she wasn’t thinking about what she wanted or discussing it or wishing for it. Because she never revealed her greatest desire, there were no stakes for her should she fail to achieve it. It didn’t seem to matter one way or the other if she got what she wanted, so I didn’t really care if she succeeded.

For readers to be involved in your story, your main character has to have a goal. Simply put, this is something she wants to accomplish by the end of the story. Goals come in many shapes and forms. A character may want to discover his own identity (The Bourne Identity), make a living and survive in 19th century Paris (Belle Epoque), or find his birth father (Elf). If you don’t know what your character wants, then the reader won’t know, either. Figuring out the hero’s goal is the first order of business.

The next important step is to reveal this goal to readers through the context of your current story—through dialogue, the character’s thoughts, through action, or a symbolic keepsake or memento, etc. And the sooner you do it, the better. In the movie The Bourne Identity, we’re all of eight minutes in when Bourne, who has clearly lost his memory, says with great emotion, “What if it doesn’t come back? We get in there tomorrow, I don’t even have a name.” With this simple bit of dialogue, viewers see exactly what Jason Bourne wants. We know what he’s going to spend the rest of the movie trying to accomplish, and we spend that time rooting for him to do just that.

Because I have a fear of overstating things, I tend to be too vague when it comes to my character’s goal. Through consistent feedback from my trusty critique partners (What’s she after in this scene? I don’t know what she wants, etc.), I’ve learned that it helps, in the drafting stage, to state the goal outright. Mention it more than once. Then, when revising, soften those references and turn them into examples of showing rather than telling. Maybe remove a few of them altogether. This has worked well for me to make sure readers know my character’s goal without smacking them over the head with it.

So, to summarize: 1) know your character’s overall story goal, and 2) reveal it at the start of the story so readers will know what needs to happen for the hero to succeed.

Hopefully this information will come in handy for you and will help you write stories that readers can’t put down. An understated goal is one big reason why books fall flat for me, but there are definitely others. I’ll be writing more posts in this series as those reasons become clear. Enjoy!

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Wanna check out the rest of the series ? Here are the installments:

#2: Characters Who Aren’t Endearing

#3: Too Much Going On

#4: Clichéd Characters

#5: Weak Writing

#6: Action Too Early

#7: Issues With Sequels

#8: Personal Preferences

BECCA PUGLISI

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Books I Didn’t Finish, AKA, What Killed it For Me appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.