Writers hear it all the time: Show, don’t tell. This advice is so iconic that I wouldn’t be surprised if a few tattoos are kicking around the community. After all, our job as writers isn’t to explain what’s happening to readers, it’s to help them experience the story themselves. And show, don’t tell is how we do it!

Showing Creates an Experience.
Telling Hands Out Information.

Imagine your story as a culinary masterpiece and your reader a dinner guest. Sure, you could slap a plate down and say, “It’s lasagna, enjoy,” or you could slide the steaming dish in front of them and let those saucy layers, bubbling cheese, and heavenly aroma rev them up for the first bite.

Telling has its place -and for more on that, zip over here- but showing engages readers. It will bring them in close, make them feel involved, and awaken their emotions and memories.

One problem with show, don’t tell?

Somewhere along the way, it became so integrated with character emotion that writers didn’t necessarily think to use it for other things.

To be clear, showing emotion is great advice! I’m sure you’ve attended workshops and been told not to say your character is sad—instead, describe them standing at their school locker, clutching a break-up note, blinking fast and swallowing hard. If you’ve read The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Expression, you know Becca and I preach loud and proud about showing emotion. But it has so many other applications, so let’s recap a few.

Showing Can Anchor Readers in the Setting

When it comes to worldbuilding, readers should be able to imagine the character’s world and feel part of each scene.

Telling: The castle was massive, with stone walls and high towers.

Showing: The castle loomed over the village, its stone walls etched with centuries of wind and war. Torchlight flickered along the high towers, where banners snapped against the night sky.

Telling works for delivering details that aren’t important, but showing can draw a reader in, help them imagine what they reader, convey the history or importance of a location, and more.

Showing Can Set the Mood

Part of creating an experience is steering how readers should feel. The details we share, especially sensory description, can nudge them to view a setting a certain way—safe, dangerous, calming, worrying. It’s up to us.  

Telling: The alley was dark and scary.

Showing: The alley narrowed, its brick walls leaning inward, swallowing the last flickers of streetlight. Garbage bags sagged against dented cans, the air thick with something damp and rotting.

Here, telling is factual, but showing creates foreboding. Only one will push readers to eagerly read on to see what sort of bad thing is waiting in the dark.

Showing Can Define a Relationship Without Labels

Characters shouldn’t have to say they’re best friends, mortal enemies, or hopelessly in love. Their actions should make that obvious.

Telling: Jake and Connor had been best friends for years.

Showing: Jake barely knocked before pushing open Connor’s door. “Bro, I got a problem with someone and need backup.”
Connor shut his textbook. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”

Best friends? Yup! Telling would work if this friendship wasn’t relevant, but if it is, we need to see that closeness in action. Showing does that, pulling the reader along for the ride.

Showing Can Reveal Character Motivation

Characters need to have agency, doing and saying things for a reason. But if we just tell readers what’s driving them, it falls flat.

Telling: Olivia wanted to prove she was just as capable as her older brother.

Showing: Olivia tightened the laces on her running shoes. She could still hear her brother’s voice from last night: “You won’t last a mile.” Gritting her teeth, she stepped onto the track. She’d make it ten.

A character’s motivation is more likely to land with readers if they empathize with their reasons. Showing here utilizes a common human experience—a lack of support and voiced doubt—and places readers in Olivia’s corner. They want her to succeed.

Showing Helps Deepen Conflict and Stakes

If the stakes matter, readers should feel it.

Telling: If Sam lost, he’d have to leave town for good.

Showing: Sam rolled his poker chip across the felt. One hand. One chance.

Across the table, Mason smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll pass on your goodbyes to everyone at the wedding tomorrow.”

Here, telling readers what’s at stake is equivalent to a sad trombone (womp-womp). Showing makes readers care about Sam and invest in what happens next.

Showing Can Showcase Characterization

Each character will have their own personality, talents, beliefs, tendencies, quirks, etc. How you convey who they are can mean the difference between a cardboard character and someone so authentic it feels like they stepped out of the real world.

Telling: Jonas was a germaphobe.

Showing: Jonas pinched the edge of his plate, avoiding contact. Across the table, a man sneezed into his palm, then grabbed the breadbasket. Jonas stiffened. Bacteria—everywhere. He chewed fast, breathed shallowly. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could scrub this place off his skin.

When we show it, Jonas’ fear feels authentic. Readers can surmise how this phobia will shape his life in the story.

Look for Opportunities to Make Your Story Immersive!

Showing can vastly improve a story, but crafting the right descriptions is not easy. This is why it can be so tempting to slip into telling. It’s worth the worth, though, when the situation in the story warrants showing.

It comes down to knowing what to show, and what to tell. Readers never need to know every little thing about the story and your characters, but they know the important stuff that helps them follow the story, care about the characters, and feel invested in the outcome.

Focus on what’s important, what readers need to know, and what makes them care the most. If you need help finding telling that you suspect needs to be converted to showing, try 7 Ways to Find Telling in Your Writing.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post How to Use Show, Don’t Tell to Strengthen Your Story appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Have you ever watched a movie based on a book you read and realized the book is so much better? As a writer, this phenomenon excites me, because we can create an experience for readers with words that studios are desperate to replicate with their huge budgets. But how can that be? Will books become obsolete as more and more content streams into homes? I highly doubt it. Writers have a few tricks up their sleeves that movies can’t use. And if you combine these elements on your pages, you’ll create an immersive experience that all the money in the world can’t put on the screen.

Movies rely on 3 elements of writing in their scripts to tell their stories – Setting, Dialogue, and Actions.

They can also use music, lighting, and special effects to enhance the whole experience.

Writers have 2 extra elements at their disposal – Reactions, and Inner Thoughts.

(Strictly speaking, movies can try to replicate Inner Thoughts by using an actor’s voiceover, but that gets annoying quickly if overused – advantage, writers!)

That’s right, only in books can a reader climb into a character’s skin and experience their world through their eyes. This is why books aren’t going anywhere, and why many times, the book is better than the movie!

The 5 Elements of Writing Include

Element 1: Setting – Your world is alive in your head as you write. Make sure that you’re giving your reader some hints along the way to help them construct your beautiful world in their minds. Try sprinkling 2-3 details of your world by letting your characters interact with your setting at the top of each scene, or immediately after the characters arrive at a new destination within a scene to make your setting pop.

Element 2: Dialogue – Just like a movie director, you as the writer can decide when to zoom way out and let time pass quickly for your characters, sharing only summary details like a movie montage, or zoom right in close and hear everything that they have to say. Dialogue is a great tool to include when you’re zooming in, letting us hear the actual words that characters say to one another. Dialogue in books is trickier to punctuate than you think, and many writers get this wrong, consistently. Check out my dialogue punctuation cheat sheet that should clear up any questions you have and get you punctuating dialogue like a pro, once and for all.

Element 3: Actions – This element includes describing all the stuff that characters get up to in your book. These actions can be small, such as scratching a nose during a conversation, or huge, such as jumping in front of a moving train to save their nemesis and furthering your plot.

Element 4: Reactions – When done right, sharing how a character reacts or feels in their Point of View will have your reader laughing, crying, or sitting on the edge of their seat right along with your characters! The Emotion Thesaurus is an amazing resource to get your creative juices flowing and practice how to get these emotions and reactions on your page.

Element 5: Inner Thoughts – This one is the slam dunk element that will tip your readers over the edge, falling into your pages. Whether you have a narrator, or it’s written from a character’s Point of View (POV), they are your reader’s guide on the journey, and will let the reader know how to feel and react to the story as they go. Let this inner voice of your POV character(s) shine, giving meaning to the events that unfold in your book’s plot. This element is what gives your story personality, helping it stand out from the rest, so have fun with it. 

What if the 5 Elements of Writing aren’t Balanced on Your Pages? 

Have you ever read (or written!) a scene that feels a little flat, and you just can’t seem to put your finger on why? Chances are, the writer has leaned too heavily on 1-2 of these elements of writing for a page or more, without taking full advantage of the full range at their disposal. Reading passages like this feels more like a chore, and readers will disengage.

Some examples of the elements being out of balance are:

• Including long paragraphs of setting description clumped together without anything happening in the scene. Readers can only digest so much information at once, and if you include too much (commonly referred to as an info dump), readers will start to skim to get back to the action on the page, missing all your beautiful descriptions.
• A page or more of quick back and forth dialogue, with minimal actions inserted between what each character is saying. This is a problem commonly called talking heads, where it feels like your characters are just heads blabbing back and forth, not providing any context. You can have quick exchanges, but keep these short and to the point for maximum impact.
• Long tirades in a character’s head (Inner Thoughts), while not moving the story forward. This one feels a lot like an info dump to read.
• Scenes that go from action to action, meticulously detailing the things your characters do, without giving them time to React, or reflect on what it means to them in that moment using Inner Thoughts.

The good news is, this imbalance is easy to spot when reading your own drafts, and easy to fix. In addition to simply counting the number of elements you’ve used on each page using the list in this article, you can spot areas in your draft that need attention quickly, paying attention to the white space on the page.

• A long section relying heavily on quick dialogue is easy to spot when there is lots of white space on your page.
• Too much setting description or inner thoughts is easy to spot when the text is dense on your pages, with long paragraphs and few breaks

Having awareness of the 5 Elements of Writing in your writers’ toolbelt will help you craft pages that hold your reader’s attention, making it feel three dimensional. Using 3 or more of these Elements on each page will keep your reader’s brain engaged and make your scenes feel richer and fuller, even better than the movie will be when it comes out.

SUZY VADORI - Resident Writing Coach

Suzy Vadori is the award-winning author of The Fountain Series. She is a certified Book Coach with Author Accelerator and the Founder of Wicked Good Fiction Bootcamp. Suzy breaks down important writing concepts into practical steps to make it easy for writers coming from outside the industry to get up to speed in a snap, so that they can realize their big, wild writing dreams!

In addition to her weekly newsletter encouraging writers, and online courses, Suzy offers both developmental editing and 1:1 Book Coaching. Find out more about our RWC team here and discover how to connect with Suzy and all the resources she has to offer here.

The post Using the 5 Elements of Writing to Immerse Readers appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Imagine inviting us into your protagonist’s house or whatever you deem to be their most sacred  physical space. But while we’re so excited to meet your protagonist, they’re not actually there. We can’t hear what they say or observe the way they move in order to get to know them. Or can we?

Now imagine that you’ve asked us to become a detective in their space. To piece together who your character is based upon what our senses tell us through clues. We’ve been asked to figure out who your character is without ever meeting them. Is this even possible?

In our own writing, we’re most effective when we set up “crime scenes” for our readers and invite them in to snoop around. The more we let the reader’s senses process the story world, the more they engage. The more they work. The more they get the satisfaction of knowing your character with greater precision and depth. In turn, this tricks them into feeling like they’re physically inside the story and into feeling they know your character on a deeper level.

Consider the two examples below. As you read them, feel out which one draws you in more as a reader:

Greg loves the beach.

Or…

Greg’s kitchen cupboard is overstuffed with brightly-colored margarita glasses. Some are hand-painted with palm trees and beach umbrellas and little flip-flops, while others have words printed along the rim. Places like Destin, Myrtle Beach, and Emerald Isle.

Chances are, you felt reeled in more by the second example. Why? Well, because the first one told you about Greg. It outright explained him as a character to you and asked you to take it at face value. There wasn’t any room for you to work. To deduce. To decide who Greg is on your own. The fact was served up cold, and this creates distance between you and the writing. Furthermore, you’re not left with any understanding of the size and scope of Greg’s love for the beach.

Whereas in the second example, you became a detective. Greg’s collection of glasses gives you a sense for just how much he craves that feeling of being on the beach with a margarita in his hand. It tells you not just that he has a lot of glasses, but leaves you room to deduce how much the beach appeals to him and how he probably yearns to be there now. So we don’t just walk away knowing this fact that he likes the beach, we know Greg on a deeper level because our senses have processed clues.

Now, it’s important to note that while offering these physical clues is much more inviting for your reader, there’s actually room to take things up a notch. We’ll break our own rule for a moment and let Greg slip into the scene so we can see what he does with that cupboard of glasses.

Greg’s hand wavers back and forth inside the cupboard packed with margarita glasses. He grins with a distant look in his eyes and carefully pulls one out. “Emerald Isle” is printed along the rim.

Notice how we’ve moved from the efficacy of that second example (Greg adores the beach, has clearly been to many of them, and doesn’t mind annoyingly cheery colors) into an even deeper level of Greg’s characterization. His movement now conveys his emotions both in this moment and as it seems to pertain to a memory. He handles the glass carefully—that tells us about his emotions toward the glass itself, the beach, and the memory. We’re invited in even further to wonder why he’s chosen the Emerald Isle glass in this exact moment, which propels us forward with curiosity in the story.

The takeaway? Physical description of your character’s space + movement is the best way of all to reveal your character to the reader. Rather than pausing the story to describe the setting or who your character is, we employ our readers much more like detectives when we let them put physical detail and character movement together.

Still, for the sake of exploring and getting the most out of the setting, it helps to scoot your character out of their spaces so they can’t grab control and outright tell us who they are or how they feel.

Here are sensory-based prompts you can address to help us get to know who your character is before you invite them back into the scene to interact with those spaces:

Visual

What does the style of the furniture in your character’s home (or even just their bedroom if it’s a younger character) say about who they are as a person? Is it modern, farmhouse style, antique, beat-up, hand-me-down furniture?

How is the furniture arranged? Is it in a way that reflects their tendencies toward being open, closed-off, organized, or chaotic? Intentional or haphazard?

What sorts of objects tell us about the way they spend their time? Are there tools or equipment that reflect their hobbies? Memories they hold dear? Whose pictures are posted, if any? Keepsakes from events they’ve attended or greeting cards from specific loved ones?

Are there patterns on things like bedding or clothing that reveal a deeper tendency toward something?

What colors dominate their decorations or functional items (cups, towels, bedding, etc.)? How do those colors reflect their propensity toward certain moods?

What’s hiding in the back of their closet? Their drawers? What’s shoved far beneath their bed?

How is the lighting? What does this show about their comforts or their fears?

Touch

What sorts of linens have they chosen for bedding? Window dressings? Pillows or throw blankets? Rugs? What might those textures let us glean about their personality? Are linens smooth and crisp, or wrinkly?

What sorts of fabrics dominate their cache of clothing? What do we feel when we open dresser drawers or run our hands through your character’s closet? How do the textures of each of these reflect their need for or rejection of comfort?

If we run our fingers along surfaces, which ones have gathered dust and how does that reflect avoidance or neglect for certain aspects of their life? Which ones are spotless to reveal care and a desire to maintain?

Auditory

What sorts of music or sounds drift through their spaces? How does that music or certain sounds reflect their personality or the way they have sentimental attachment to something? Do the auditory clues change depending on which space we’re in?

Are their windows open or closed to the outside world?

Are there objects that suggest auditory preferences (ear plugs, headphones, earbuds, instruments, white-noise machines, etc.)?

What does the range of their music collection tell us about their range of moods?

What size or how many speakers are around their home? What does that suggest about their reliance upon music and sound in processing emotions?

Scent

What are the scents in the different spaces where they spend time? How might those tell us something more about their interests or what they value?

Are they utilizing diffusers, candles, or plug-in scent items to evoke mood? To cover up something?

How does scent reflect the amount of time your character spends in their sacred space(s)?

Are the scents suggestive of memories or favorite times of year? Favorite places (e.g. tropical candles might suggest a preference for summer and beach getaways)?

Taste

If we open the kitchen cupboards, refrigerator, or the medicine cabinet, are there items that reveal your character’s lifestyle choices to us? Their cultural background? Their financial means?

How do the foods we see suggest a tendency toward snacking versus eating full meals? Having time to cook or relying on conveniences?

What sorts of food wrappers or food waste are sitting in the trash can?

How does the volume of food on hand suggest their outlook on life?

Are items in the fridge expired? Organized?

Again, as shown in that third example above, all of these clue-based details are best mixed with action. Nothing drops the tension faster than the narrator pausing to tell us what a character is wearing or what the character’s bedroom looks like. The most effective descriptions are woven together with movement. The more you concoct the facets of your character’s spaces with intention, the more your reader steps in like a detective, working through your clues and getting to know your character on the deepest levels.

*Marissa also shows you how to approach your novel like a winning trial lawyer,
delivering your reader to the verdict you want.

MARISSA GRAFF - Resident Writing Coach

Marissa has been a freelance editor and reader for literary agent Sarah Davies at Greenhouse Literary Agency for over seven years. In conjunction with Angelella Editorial, she offers developmental editing, author coaching, and more. Marissa feels if she’s done her job well, a client should probably never need her help again because she’s given them a crash-course MFA via deep editorial support and/or coaching. Find out more about our RWC team here and connect with Marissa below.

The post Turn Your Readers into Detectives appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

By C. S. Lakin

Every person or character, at any given time, is in a particular mood. Generally, mood is a person’s state of mind, but it’s more than that. Mood can also describe the disposition of a collective of people, a certain time in history, or the ether of a place.

Regardless of what kind of mood we speak of, it’s always subjective. Ten people can be experiencing the same event at the same place and time, yet, depending on their perspective, their individual mood will differ.

We all know about moods and have a range of them we express and feel, whether we’re aware of them or not. We can sense others’ moods just as they can sense ours. The mood of the character should affect the way he perceives his environment, and expert writers will carefully choose words and imagery that act like a mirror to their emotions.

First, Consider Your Scene’s Purpose

Your story may have an overall tone or mood, but every scene is a microsystem of mood that depends on the emotional state and mindset of your character. When you plot out your scene, you need to first think about how your character will interact with his setting based on his mood and the purpose of your scene.

Remember: it’s the purpose of the scene that determines all the setting elements—what you choose to have him notice (and not notice) and react to and why.

Words Are Everything

However, learn this truth: it is not the originality of a world or the degree of creativity in the world itself that makes a fantasy novel shine with brilliance; it’s the choice of words and phrases that the author uses that evokes not just a right sensory experience but makes readers fall in love with the writing.

Please note: this doesn’t just pertain to fantasy novels. Every novel involves the creation of a “world,” and so writers need to take just as much care in the creation of any world in any genre. Take a look at this hastily written sentence:

Bill walked through the forest until he found a cottage set back in the trees . . .

Now consider the reworked description below that I spent a bit more time on:

Bill slogged along the leaf-choked path, the spindly arms of the bare maples quivering in the cold autumn wind—a feeble attempt to turn him back. But he pressed on until he spotted, nestled in a copse of willows, the derelict cottage slumped like a lost orphan, the lidless windows dark and vacant. Hardly a welcoming sight after many tiresome hours of travel.

A specific mood is created by bringing out Bill’s mindset and emotional state. Without knowing anything else about this scene (if I’d written one), a reader can clearly sense the purpose of the action by the things he notices and the words used to describe them

To immerse your readers in the world you’ve created, you need to spend time coming up with masterful description. And the components of such description are the nouns, verbs, and adjectives you choose.

Mood Nuances

We all know about moods and have a range of them we express and feel, whether we’re aware of them or not. We can sense others’ moods just as they can sense ours. The mood of the character should affect the way he perceives his environment, and expert writers will carefully choose words and imagery that act like a mirror to their emotions. It’s a reciprocal factor: mood informs how the character sees his setting, but the setting also informs his mood—shifting it or intensifying it.

Take a look at this passage from The Dazzling Truth (Helen Cullen):

Murtagh opened the front door and flinched at a swarm of spitting raindrops. The blistering wind mocked the threadbare cotton of his pajamas. He bent his head into the onslaught and pushed forward, dragging the heavy scarlet door behind him. The brass knocker clanged against the wood; he flinched, hoping it had not woken the children. Shivering, he picked a route in his slippers around the muddy puddles spreading across the cobblestoned pathway. Leaning over the wrought-iron gate that separated their own familial island from the winding lane of the island proper, he scanned the dark horizon for a glimpse of Maeve in the faraway glow of a streetlamp.

 In the distance, the sea and sky had melted into one anthracite mist, each indiscernible from the other. Sheep huddled together for comfort in Peadar Óg’s field, the waterlogged green that bordered the Moones’ land to the right; the plaintive baying of the animals sounded mournful. Murtagh nodded at them.

 There was no sight of Maeve.

Culler is masterful in her usage of imagery to convey sensory detail. The feeling of rain on Murtagh’s skin is described by flinching at spitting raindrops. The blistering wind attacks his pajamas. Dragging the heavy door shows the sensation of his muscles working—proprioception. And of course we have visuals, which paint the stage for us.

We also have the sound of the brass knocker—used for a specific purpose—to tell us he’s concerned about the children waking. This is a good point to pay attention to: sensory detail should serve more than one purpose. Don’t just add a sound or sight without thinking of the POV character’s mood, concerns, mindset, and purpose in that moment. The more you can tie those things to the sensory details, the more powerful your writing.

Weather

Writers are sometimes told not to write about weather. It’s boring, right? But weather affects us every moment of every day and night. We make decisions for how we will spend our day, even our life, based on weather. And weather greatly affects our mood, whether we notice or not.

Since we want our characters to act and react believably, they should also be affected by weather. Sure, at times they aren’t going to notice it. But there are plenty of opportunities to have characters interact with weather can be purposeful and powerful in your story.

Strong Verbs and Adjectives

Using strong and effective verbs and adjectives will help you craft setting descriptions that are masterful. Every word counts. To borrow unfaithfully from Animal Farm: All words are created equal, but some words are more equal than others. Some words are plain boring, and others take our breath away.

Mood is one of the 3 M’s of character setup, and you’ll want to make sure you get the character’s mood, mindset (what she’s concerned about), and motivation on that first page. What happens in the scene will shift the mood in some way, resulting in some change in mood by the end of the scene. So think about what that mood will be like at the start of the scene and what’s changed in the mood by the end. Using the setting interactively with your character is the most powerful way to masterfully accomplish this!

C. S. Lakin is an award-winning author of more than 30 books, fiction and nonfiction (which includes more than 10 books in her Writer’s Toolbox series). Her online video courses at Writing for Life Workshops have helped more than 5,000 fiction writers improve their craft. To go deep into creating great settings and evoking emotions in your characters, and to learn essential technique, enroll in Lakin’s courses Crafting Powerful Settings and Emotional Mastery for Fiction Writers. Her blog Live Write Thrive has more than 1 million words of instruction for writers, so hop on over and level-up your writing!

Guest Contributor

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The post How to Create Mood Effectively in Your Fiction appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

What are writers chronically short on? Time.

There never seems to be enough of it as we try to get the next book written, research our publishing options, keep up with marketing, work on our platform, etc., and that doesn’t even factor in what’s happening in other areas of our life. And as we juggle, the one thing that can help us succeed more than anything else is often neglected: education to help us improve our storytelling skills.

Introducing Mini-Lessons

You guys know Becca and I have a lot to say about description and how showing the right things in the right way means readers are pulled in and will care deeply about characters and what’s happening in their lives. We’ve written books on many description elements and have even more of these in our THESAURUS database at One Stop for Writers.

This summer, Becca and I have recorded a mini lesson for each of our thesauruses, helping you better understand that story element, what its superpower is in your story, and how to activate that detail through description.

Each video takes you through a thesaurus in the One Stop for Writers database, but you don’t need to be a subscriber to benefit from these lessons or use our thesauruses (although they are very helpful for brainstorming). But if you are someone who uses them, this will broaden your understanding so you get even more value from each brainstorming list.

Bite-sized learning is a perfect match for busy writers

Life can be hectic, making it hard to carve out big blocks of time for learning. With these videos, you need about 5 (ish) minutes. Totally doable! Whether you want to learn how to describe a character’s emotions, activate the power of your scene’s setting, or understand character motivation better so plotting becomes easier, a helpful mini-lesson is waiting for you.

Here’s the playlist, or choose the topic you’d like to know more about below.

Happy writing and learning!

Grow Your Skills with Becca & Angela

How to Describe a Character’s Appearance

How Emotional Trauma Affects Characters & Their Arc

How to Use a Character’s Fears in Storytelling

How to Create a Character Readers Will Love

How to Give a Character Flaws that Will Hold Them Back

How the Right Setting Details Make a Scene More Powerful

How to Create a Memorable Character Using a Talent or Skill

How to Show What Your Character Is Feeling

How to Use Conflict to Power up Your Story

How to Write Your Theme and Use Effective Symbolism in Fiction

How to Use the Weather to Build Mood and Generate Conflict

How to Find the Right Job for a Character

How to Bring Readers Into a Story Using Textures

How to Create Vivid Description Using Colors and Patterns

How Describing an Object’s Shape the Right Way Strengthens the Story

How to Build Strong Characters & Arcs

How to Amplify Your Character’s Emotional State

Need more help as you plan, write, and revise? Join us at One Stop!

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Improve Your Storytelling in 5 Minutes appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

When you think about the key elements of storytelling, characters and plot immediately come to mind, but what about the setting? Do you view it as 1) a vital story component, or 2) just the place where story events happen?

If you picked 1, nice job. If you picked 2, no worries. Go here, scroll down, and buckle in. Reading through these setting articles will transform the way you view the setting.

The setting tied to each scene carries a lot of storytelling weight because it had the power to touch and amplify anything to do with characters, events, and emotion. Used correctly, a location can characterize the story’s cast, steer the plot, evoke emotions and mood, create windows to allow for active backstory sharing, provide conflict and challenges, and act as a mirror for what the protagonist needs most, reinforcing his motivation at every step.

When it comes down to it, the setting is storytelling magic. What other element can do so much to enhance a story?

Here are five setting mistakes that drain power from your story.

1) Treating The Setting Like Stage Dressing

Each setting holds great power, deepening the action as it unfolds and characterizing the story’s cast during the scene. If we only use a few words to summarize the location, it can really impact the reader’s ability to connect with the characters and what’s happening. Vivid, concrete details not only help readers feel like they’re right there, planting specific description and symbolism within the setting also adds layers to the story itself.

2) Focusing On Only One Sense

Another common struggle for writers is choosing to describe through a single sense, specifically sight. While we rely heavily on this sense in real life, our world is multisensory, and our job as writers is to make our fictional landscape as rich and realistic as the real thing.

We want to make each scene come alive for readers so they feel like they are right there next to the protagonist, experiencing the moment as he or she does. This means including sounds which add realism, smells which trigger the reader’s emotional memories and help create “shared experiences,” tastes that allow for unique exploration, and textures that will shed light on what’s important to the character through their emotional state.

Textures are especially critical to include, as a point of view character must directly interact with the setting to bring it about, and every action in the story should have purpose. What they touch should have a “why” attached to it, revealing the POV character’s mindset, and showing, rather than telling, readers what’s really important in the scene.

3) Over-Describing Or Describing The Wrong Things

Sometimes in our enthusiasm to draw readers into the scene, we go a little crazy when it comes to describing. Trying to convey every feature, every angle, every facet of the setting will not only smash the pace flat, it will likely cause the reader to skim. And, if they skim, they are missing all that great description you’ve worked so hard to include. So, to avoid over-describing or focusing on the wrong details, try to make each bit of description earn the right to be included.

It isn’t just about showing the scene—the weather, the lighting, the colors and shapes—it’s also about offering detail that does double duty somehow. Ask yourself, is the detail I want to include doing something more than showing the reader where the characters are? Is it also characterizing, evoking mood, reminding the POV character of his goal and why he wants it so bad? Is this detail creating a challenge in some way, standing between the character and his goal? Is it helping to convey his emotional state, or does it symbolize something important within the context of the story?

Setting description should always be adding to the scene, revealing more about the characters as it helps to push the story forward.

4) Not taking Advantage of POV & Emotion Filters

Another area that can water down the effect of setting description is a very distanced narrative where every detail is explained, rather than shown through the emotional filter of the POV character. A character who is anxious is going to view the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures of any given setting differently than a character who is excited, or disappointed, or even filled with gratitude.

Being able to filter the character’s world through their senses and emotions helps to pull the reader close to the character, and creates a deeper understanding of who they are, laying the groundwork for empathy.

5) Choosing A Setting That Is Convenient Rather Than Meaningful

Because the setting can steer the story, evoke emotion, remind the hero or heroine of missing needs and create a window into past pain, we need to get specific when we choose a location. Three questions to ask ourselves as we hunt for the perfect place is 1) what is the outcome of this scene, 2) how can I use the setting to generate conflict and tension (good or bad) to really amp up what is about to take place, and 3), how can I create an emotional value in this setting?

Emotional values—settings which mean something to one or more characters– are especially important. For example, imagine a character who is about to be interviewed for an important job. He’s confident because he’s got the skills they need, and the experience this company covets. His potential employer decides on an informal lunch interview, and our character is eager to impress. A restaurant setting makes sense…but why would we choose just any old restaurant for this scene to take place? Instead, let’s pick the very same restaurant where our character proposed to his girlfriend two years earlier and was rejected. By having this interview take place in this particular restaurant, we have created an emotional value—it represents something to the character: rejection.

Choosing this restaurant will put our character off balance, and the echoes of his past failure will be with him during the interview. This will almost certainly affect his behavior, creating tension and conflict. Will he get the job? Will he blow the interview? The outcome is now uncertain. Take the time to choose the best location for each scene, because the storytelling currency will be well worth the effort!

The setting is a powerful component to storytelling, but only if we fully activate it. So when you choose a setting, consider carefully how the right location can amp up the tension and point the reader’s attention to the very things you want them to notice, be it a symbol in your setting, your character’s behavior because the setting is activating their emotions somehow, or a danger or obstacle tied to the setting that’s about to challenge your character and disrupt their progress to their goal.

Brainstorm the best location for each scene

If you need inspiration as you choose the right setting and would like a list of ideas on how to describe different places using sensory language, swing by the Setting Thesaurus Database at One Stop for Writers. Each setting in the database also has a list of possible conflicts that might take place in that location, helping you think about how to make things harder for characters.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Setting Description Mistakes that Weaken a Story appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

This depth can be added a number of ways—through subplots, character arc, subtext, theme, and symbolism. Of them all, symbolism is one of the simplest methods to deploy, packs a serious wallop, and is often underused. Let’s talk about why you should use it. 

Symbolism can turn an ordinary object (or place, color, person, etc.) into something that goes beyond the literal. Babies represent innocence and unlimited potential, spring is synonymous with rebirth, shackles symbolize slavery, the color white brings to mind purity.

Symbols like these are considered ‘universal’ because the associated meaning is so well known within a culture or society. As such, using universal symbols in fiction means writers can deliver a deeper message without having to state it outright. Not only that, symbols tighten description too. By its very nature, if something is understood to be symbolic, it’s conveying something more.

A symbol can also be personal in nature. This is where it means something specifically to a character or specific group.

For William Wallace in the movie Braveheart, the thistle represents love since one was given to him by Murron when they were children. To most people, love in the form of a prickly weed wouldn’t typically compute. But as it’s used throughout the film at poignant moments, the audience comes to recognize this personal symbol for what it means.

So whether the symbol is universally obvious or one that’s specific to the protagonist, it can add a layer that draws readers deeper into the story. The setting itself can become a symbol as a whole should you need it to. A home could stand for safety. A river might represent a forbidden boundary.

More often than not, your symbol will be something within the setting that represents an important idea to your character. And when you look within your protagonist’s immediate world, you’re sure to find something that holds emotional value for him or her.

For instance, if your character was physically abused as a child, it might make sense for the father to be a symbol of that abuse since he was the one who perpetrated it. But the father might live thousands of miles away. The character may have little to no contact with him, which doesn’t leave many chances to symbolize. Choosing something within the protagonist’s own setting will have greater impact and offer more opportunities for conflict and tension.

Perhaps the symbol might be the smell of his father’s cologne—the same kind his roommate puts on when he’s prepping for a date, the scent of which soaks into the carpet and furniture and lingers for days.

Another choice might be an object from his setting that represents the one he was beaten with: wire hangers in the closet, a heavy dictionary on the library shelf, or the tennis racquet in his daughter’s room that she recently acquired and is using for lessons. These objects won’t be exact replicas of the ones from his past, but they’re close enough to trigger unease, bad memories, or even emotional trauma.

Symbols like these have potential because not only do they clearly remind the protagonist of a painful past event, they’re in his immediate environment, where he’s forced to encounter them frequently. In the case of the tennis racquet, an extra layer of complexity is added because the object is connected to someone he dearly loves—someone he wants to keep completely separate from any thoughts of his abuse.

Motifs: Symbolism on a Larger Scale

Connecting readers with our stories is what we all hope to achieve as authors. This is why the stories we write often contain a central message or idea—a theme—that is being conveyed through its telling. Sometimes the theme is deliberately included during the drafting stage; other times, it organically emerges during the writing process. However it occurs, the theme is often supported by certain recurring symbols that help to develop the overall message or idea throughout the course of a story. These repeated symbols are called motifs.

For example, consider the Harry Potter series. One of the motifs under-girding the theme of good vs. evil is the snake. It’s the sign for the house of Slytherin, from which so many bad wizards have emerged. Voldemort’s pet, Nagini, is a giant snake. Those who can speak Parseltongue (the language of serpents) are considered to be dark wizards. By repeatedly using this creature as a symbol for evil, Rowling creates an image that readers automatically associate with the dark side of Potter’s world.

Because motifs are pivotal in revealing your theme, it’s important to find the right ones. The setting is a natural place for these motifs to occur because it contains so many possibilities. It could be a season, an article of clothing, an animal, a weather phenomenon—it could be anything, as long as it recurs throughout the story and reinforces the overall theme.

Themes can either be planned or accidental. If you know beforehand what your theme will be, think of a location that could reinforce that idea—either through the setting itself or with objects within that place—and make sure those choices are prominently displayed throughout the story.

Need help finding the right symbol for your story?

Did you know we have a comprehensive Theme and Symbolism Thesaurus at One Stop for Writers?

Stop by sometime and explore the many possible symbols that can be used to enhance the deeper themes in your writing using our FREE TRIAL.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post How Symbolism Adds Depth to a Story appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

We’ve probably all heard some variation of the advice to develop story settings that feel like characters. Hogwarts castle in the Harry Potter story world, the Overlook Hotel in The Shining, and East and West Egg in The Great Gatsby are all frequently listed as examples of settings that come alive in readers’ imaginations.

However, we also know that not all advice applies to every writer or story. So let’s dig into this idea: Should we apply the advice “think of your setting as a character” to our story—and if so, how?

The Building Blocks of Our Story

Newer writers often conflate the terms story and plot, but plot is just one piece of our story. In general, the biggest story elements are:

• Character
• Plot
• Setting

We could usually change the voice or mood or point-of-view (or other various elements) and still have the same basic story. But if we change the bigger elements, the chances are higher that the story itself would change on a fundamental level.

Not always, of course.

Stories focused on character arcs can often swap out plot points and end up with the same story-level insights into how the characters learn and grow in the face of whatever challenges we choose for the plot. Conversely, we’ve likely all come across plot-focused stories where character inconsistency is the norm because they’re just puppets doing what the plot needs them to do.

Similarly, settings can be hugely important to some stories and mere background to others. One option isn’t “right,” and the other option isn’t “wrong”—there are simply different types of stories. We need to figure out what type of story we have (or want to have) and make sure our setting supports that goal.

What Type of Story Do We Have?

How much does the setting of our story matter? We can ask ourselves:

• Does our story have a recurring setting?
• Could our story take place almost anywhere?
• What would change (if anything) if our setting were different?

For example, some stories don’t revisit settings, so the setting is important only if the overall story world is worth a deeper study. (Think of the development of Tolkien’s Middle-earth world even though the Lord of the Rings story follows the characters on a “road trip” without recurring settings.) Or for another example, the setting for a story in a generic office might be important only for readers to know that the story takes place in a real-world-style contemporary office.

It’s the need (or desire) for a specific type of setting that matters – whether that means a specific type of story world, a specific atmosphere in a house, a specific culture of a workplace, etc. Going back to our generic office example, a fuller setting development might be helpful if we wanted to use specific setting details to add layers to our story, such as reflecting the emotions of our characters or story mood, creating a metaphor for our character’s experience, etc.

If that’s not the case, there’s nothing wrong with ignoring the “treat settings like characters” advice. We’re simply not writing that type of story, and we don’t need to overthink the details of our setting.

How Do We Treat Our Setting as a Character?

While many of us enjoy reading stories where settings come to life, we often struggle to write such settings ourselves. (Of course, with their Urban and Rural Setting Thesaurus books, blog posts, and Setting Planner Tool, Angela and Becca have plenty of tips for writing settings!)

If we think of our setting as a character, we can add development along the lines of:

• Personality and Backstory: Our characters’ backstory gives them a certain personality that we keep consistent throughout our story (unless they have reasons to act out of character). Similarly, the history or culture of a place can develop the “rules” and personality of our setting, and when we follow those rules consistently, we create a world that feels realistic (no matter how fantastical it is).
• Emotional Aspects: When writing characters, we include details beyond physical description that help readers recognize who the character is on the inside. We can include deeper descriptions with our settings too:
  Does the setting evoke a certain mood or atmosphere (cold and unforgiving or vibrant and peaceful)? Does it symbolize something to characters (or to readers)? Does it reflect the emotions of the characters (a messy house for a messy mind, etc.)? Is it hiding secrets or built on lies? Are there iconic details that can make the setting recognizable as this specific place? How might readers emotionally connect to the setting?
• Conflicts: Just as characters come into conflict with each other, settings can trigger conflicts as well. (Angela and Becca’s Setting Checklist shares many conflict ideas.) From urban/rural to historical/modern, settings and environments affect everything from culture, rituals, and expectations to common obstacles and attitudes. How does our setting interact and influence our characters and our plot (and vice versa)?
• Arcs of Change: Our settings can change over the course of a story the same as our characters. They might change with the seasons, plot events might affect them physically (destruction from the villain, new trees planted, etc.), or our characters might simply perceive our setting differently as they’ve changed throughout the story.

The Benefits of a Well-Developed Setting

We need only to think of our own experiences as readers to know what a well-written setting can do for our story. Countless readers wished for their own invitation letters to Hogwarts (never mind all the dangers experienced in every book!) so they could experience the wonder of Harry’s first visit for themselves.

Just as readers form emotional connections to characters, they can form emotional connections to settings. Sometimes those emotional connections to settings can be even stronger than to any specific character, such as with the Chronicles of Narnia series that swapped protagonists several times.

For another example of how much settings can matter, here in the U.S., generations of kids grew up with The Brady Bunch TV show, and the HGTV cable channel recently spent millions remodeling the original house used for the exterior of the Brady family’s home to have an interior to match the late-1960s/early-1970s studio sets. The HGTV show following the remodel project turned into their highest-rated series ever, and Brady Bunch fans helped crowd-source furniture and household items to stock the rooms and then competed for a chance to spend a week living in the “old-fashioned” house. That setting felt iconic and meaningful to viewers, and the same can happen with our stories.

When it fits our story, treating our setting as a character can give readers more reasons to emotionally connect to our story, and that’s always a good thing. *smile* Do you have any questions or insights about settings or when and how to fully develop them?

JAMI GOLD - Resident Writing Coach

Jami Gold put her talent for making up stuff to good use, such as by winning the 2015 National Readers’ Choice Award in Paranormal Romance for her novel Ironclad Devotion.

To help others reach their creative potential, she’s developed a massive collection of resources for writers. Explore her site to find worksheets—including the popular Romance Beat Sheet with 80,000+ downloads—workshops, and over 1000 posts on her blog about the craft, business, and life of writing. Her site has been named one of the 101 Best Websites for Writers by Writer’s Digest. Find out more about our RWC team here and connect with Jami below.

The post Should We Think of Our Setting as a Character? appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Imagine your character is living in an area that the reader grew up in. Even if you carefully researched the setting, maybe visited it yourself, the reality is that people and places will change over time. Stores close, schools are torn down, and social dynamics change, making safe neighborhoods unsafe or vice-versa. Landmarks might change and beloved sports teams move on. When readers discover you’re writing about a place they used to know, initially they’re excited. But if the details of your story don’t match what they remember, it causes a ripple in their experience, and they may lose faith in your storytelling ability.

Reader bias can be an issue If you get too granular in details likely to shift over time, but there are also many good reasons to place your story in the real world. Readers can slip into the action easier when they understand it takes place in Chicago or Amsterdam because they recognize these areas and can fill in blanks as far as how “big picture” society works. Reading about familiar places also helps your audience feel connected to the story’s cast because of shared life experiences and naturally occurring common ground.

So, let’s say you decide to set your book in a real place. This means a road trip is in order, right? Well, maybe. Is it close enough to travel to? Do you have the budget for it? If so, go for it (when it’s safe to do so, of course). There’s nothing better than getting first-hand sensory detail. In fact when Becca and I created the Urban and Rural Setting Thesaurus books we visited most locations in person. But, Like now, travel isn’t always in the cards (or the wallet) so sometimes we need a work-around: research.

3 Basic Real-World “Biggies” To Nail Down For Any Location

Climate and Seasons: As we all know, any location looks different season to season. Climate influences everything–the flora and fauna, what people wear, the types of buildings, you name it. Understanding the temperature, humidity (if it’s a factor) and local weather conditions are important so you can nail those descriptive details that will make a reader feel part of a scene.

Topography: The type of landforms tied to your location are also a big part of the story. Whether you’re in a populated area or not, knowing natural components (trees, rivers, plants, flowers, etc.) and manmade elements (buildings, infrastructure, etc.) will create realism. And by better understanding the landscape you can zero in on features and dangers that can help you turn your scene’s setting into an obstacle course, generating realistic conflict that will block your protagonist from their goal.

Social Issues, Language, and Culture: The people who live in a real-world location influence the shape and structure of it (colors, styles, government, local events, food, entertainment, modes of travel, art, music, etc.). Slang, customs, gender roles, religion, and dress will likely be unique to this area.

For example, at the height of summer, you might be tempted to have your characters slip on flip-flops on their way out the door. But if they live in a rugged mountain town known for hiking and other forms of recreation and active living, light hiking shoes or treaded sandals might be their go-to. It’s a small detail, but one that can cause you to trip as an author because local readers would know better. Writing about real-world locations means never skimping on the research or making blanket assumptions, or a resulting logic goof might pull readers out of the story.

Angela’s Favorite Setting Research Bookmarks

We know what information to dig for, so now it’s about doing it. Here are some of my favorite sources for setting detail.

You Tube: Some settings Becca and I couldn’t see firsthand, either because they were too dangerous, off limits (AKA trespassing), or too far away. You tube was invaluable. If you have a specific place in mind, run a search and pair it with “tour” or “walkthrough.” Often, you’ll find just what you need, straight from a local’s perspective.

Wiki Travel: They say there’s a Wikipedia for everything, and “they” might be right. Run a search for a location here and you’ll pull up all sorts of interesting local data: how to get around, things to do in the area, typical food and drink, climate, history, neighborhoods of interest…check it out!

Pinterest: Is there anything Pinterest can’t do? I don’t think so! Type in your location and see what pops up. Even better if you can pair it with an activity that ties into your book. For example, I typed in “Ohio Camping” and all kinds of detail gold came up.

National Centers For Environmental Information: This site is great for accessing the weather and temperature for different areas and is especially helpful for US locations.

National Geographic Interactive Maps: You can find a lot of statistical information about different parts of the world from this site—give it a whirl!

Google Earth: Street view can show you a lot of extras that help fill in the blanks when it comes to a particular setting.

The World Culture Encyclopedia: A big stumbling block can be understanding the culture and customs of a specific group of people. This site is a lifesaver. Also, try this one as well.

The Setting Thesaurus: Becca and I investigated 225 different setting locations and gathered the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures associated with each so you know what your character may encounter and use our sensory detail to bring readers deeper into your story.

Ancient Ruins, a Police Car, a House Party, an Antiques Shop…the detail for these and other locations will give you a big head start on painting a vivid canvas for your audience.

FYI, this thesaurus is also at One Stop For Writers, and has been expanded to include many other settings.

Feel free to check it out using our 2-week free trial.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post How to Describe a Location You’ve Never Visited appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

There’s a good reason for this, though. Showing draws a reader in so they are more emotionally involved. Telling informs.

Often paired with “show, don’t tell” advice is the assertion that not all telling is bad. That’s also true. Telling is necessary, and acts as a balance to showing. If everything was shown, books would be 400,000 word monstrosities. And our readers? Asleep after twenty pages.

Does this means our stories should be equal parts showing and telling? Not by a long shot. In storytelling, showing is King.

The spirit of show, don’t tell is recognizing when a detail or moment is important, and then slowing things down briefly to describe it.

Now “slowing things down” doesn’t mean lazy, liquid writing – far from it. Adding sugary, fluffy words without purpose might pretty up a sentence, but it also slows the pace and weakens writing.

Think of words as currency–limited currency. If we only have so many words to work with, we become more careful about how we use them.

Being choosy is a good thing in writing. Is something important to the story? Will it add meaning and depth, reveal something about the characters, and enhances the reader’s experience? If so, it’s probably a detail to expand upon.

Show, Don’t Tell & Emotion

Most articles and workshops on show, don’t tell focus on emotion. It’s no wonder because emotion is one area where showing almost always trumps telling. After all, we want readers to feel part of what’s happening and connect with what a character is feeling, and it’s easier to do that through showing. Consider these:

Dee waited for Kirk to get home. She was furious. (Telling)

Dee paced the kitchen. She was as mad as Hell. (Weak showing + telling)

Dee lapped the kitchen table, crushing fistfuls of air and counting the minutes until she’d have something more solid to choke. Kirk was a dead man. (Showing.)

Showing engages. It involves. It can make readers feel like they are participating in the moment. That’s why scenes with emotions usually have a higher percentage of showing.

Show, don’t tell is something that we should always keep at the front of our mind as it forces us to think about the reader’s experience and how to make it better. And because we want to do more with less (word currency) we try harder to find the best words to describe something. When we become picky about our description and language, our writing improves!

Show, Don’t Tell & Setting

Setting is a powerful element in fiction. It can be used in so many ways: to help readers imagine the scene, infuse a moment with emotion and mood, foreshadow, create tension, characterize…. On and on it goes. Consider this:

Mary stopped on the sidewalk. The house in front of her was old and creepy. This couldn’t be the right place, could it? (Telling)

The house towered over Mary, blocking the sun and stealing warmth from the air. Peeling porch steps sagged and the shutters hung askew, like old bones barely able to hold together. Mary dug for the slip of paper Grandmother had given her. This must be the wrong address. Had to be. A cold tingle slid across her shoulders and she froze. Someone, or something, was watching. (Showing)

Showing usually requires more word count, which is why we want to think carefully about which details to include and which not to. I could have also described the scabby lawn and toppled flower pots, or even how the trees seemed to bend toward the house as if cradling its secrets. But it’s easy to get carried away, especially when you are trying to build atmosphere and mood. Choose powerful details that do the job and keep the writing tight.

Show, Don’t Tell & a Character’s Physical Features

Show, don’t tell isn’t always about using one over the other. It’s about using both effectively and challenging ourselves to do more with description. Consider:

Marcy pounded on her upstairs neighbor’s door, ready to lash into the jerk blasting his My dog died and my tractor left me country music at six AM. An old, blue-hair answered, shocking the words right out of Marcy. Not what she expected, not at all.

Marcy pounded on her upstairs neighbor’s door, ready to lash into the jerk blasting his My dog died and my tractor left me country music at six AM. A cherubic grandmother answered, white curls carefully coiffed and a flower-print apron circling her thick waist. “Good morning, dear.” Her smile was the equivalent of a warm cookie on a plate next to an inviting glass of milk.

I, uh, just wanted to introduce myself. Marcy.” She thrust out her hand. “I have the, you know, basement suite.”

Which one sets up the neighbor’s kindly personality and displays Marcy’s shock?

Does every character require thoughtful physical description? No. It’s really up to you to decide which characters are important enough to describe and to what degree, but when you do, challenge yourself to ditch generic details and instead choose ones that give readers insight into who the character is deep down, how they feel, or something else significant and interesting.

Make Each Word Earn the Right to Be Included

Thinking in terms of show don’t tell will make you a more effective storyteller because you get used to doing more with your description.

If you need help getting into this mindset, try One Stop for Writers’ descriptive thesaurus database. It’s the largest database of its kind and will help you brainstorm meaningful details to push the story forward and reveal your character’s deeper layers. If you like our thesaurus books, this database of ours is like that, only much, MUCH bigger!

Remember, the reader doesn’t need to know everything, only the important things. Whenever you’re not sure if you should show or tell, just think about what you the audience to get out of this moment. Do you have a point to make? Are you trying to show a character’s deeper emotions, hint at a traumatic past, or showcase how their flawed behavior is holding them back in life? If there’s something important you want readers to see, chances are you need to show.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Mastering Show, Don’t Tell appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Life is a highway. Love is a battlefield. All the world’s a stage. Hope is the thing with feathers.

If you’re familiar with these expressions, you already know that metaphors are all around us — and that some of the most striking ones come from literature. For this reason, writers who want to improve their figurative language would do well to study famous metaphor examples and see how they’re constructed.

But there’s so much more we can learn from metaphors other than how to create an interesting comparison! Indeed, they’re something of a microcosm for writing as a whole — the techniques we use to design metaphors can be applied to countless other aspects of the craft. To that end, here are five lessons from great literary metaphors that you can use to turn your writing into a powder keg (see what I did there?).

1. There’s power in brevity

Let’s return to the examples I cited in my first line — all extremely well-known metaphors, yet none more than six words long. Coincidence? Absolutely not. Just as with business mottos and political slogans, shorter metaphors are much more likely to make a memorable impact. I’ll use another famous comparison, courtesy of the inimitable Bard, to drive this point home:

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? / It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

There’s a bit of buildup here, but the last four words make the metaphor: Juliet is the sun. What a perfect way to sum up how Romeo sees her — as the center of everything, his source of light and warmth, practically blinding him with her beauty, etc. Reaching a bit further, you might even say that Romeo feels as though he already revolves around Juliet, and perhaps has a sense of foreboding because he understands the danger of getting too close to her.

But having explained it that way, the metaphor loses its initial impact. This is why it’s best to simply present an analogy and allow readers to draw their own conclusions. The same is true of writing in general — brevity is the soul of wit, as another Shakespearean character once noted. So whether or not you’re constructing a metaphor, take care to be concise in your writing.

2. Some references are evergreen

Another great lesson when it comes to metaphors and writing is that certain reference points never go out of style. While this may be less relevant to content creators who strive for topical, Twitter-worthy references, most writers can really benefit from making their metaphors (and all prose) as timeless as possible.

One of the most illuminating experiences I’ve had with figurative language has been reading Madeline Miller’s Circe, which retells the story of the titular mythological figure. Naturally, one repercussion is that all references must be made to things that existed in the ancient past. But Miller tackles the challenge masterfully, resulting in highly affecting metaphors like these:

She was very beautiful, it was true, one of the jewels of our halls.

He was a poison snake, and I was another, and on such terms we pleased ourselves.

Gods pretend to be parents, but they are children, clapping their hands and shouting for more.

All these analogies compare characters in the story to universally recognizable things: jewels, snakes, parents and children. Such things have always had clear connotations, so mentioning them is like drawing upon a highly-charged power source.

This is what writers should attempt to do — use potent language that won’t be diluted by the passage of time. Of course, this may be difficult when the situation is very specific, or if you’re worried about being too many ostentatious with literary devices. But luckily, these kinds of evergreen references are so organic, your readers will hardly even notice them. They’ll contribute to the overall effect without making a spectacle of themselves.

3. The occasional change-up is good

That said, sometimes a bit of a spectacle is exactly what you want. While I advocate for using subtle, organic language 95% of the time, occasionally you want your writing to stop readers in their tracks. And if you want a metaphorto achieve this, you should try juxtaposing two highly dissimilar things. Here’s an exemplary excerpt from Run, Rabbit by John Updike:

He flinches when footsteps pound behind him. But it is just two lovers, holding hands and in a hurry to reach their car, their locked hands a starfish leaping through the dark.

When you imagine lovers holding hands, you probably don’t associate it with a leaping starfish. For one thing, the shape of two hands clasped together isn’t especially star-like; for another, starfish don’t leap. But the illogical nature of this comparison is overcome by the strength of the image. We as readers are swept up by the nonsensical wonder of a leaping starfish — which indeed, may be just as rare and bewitching a sight as true love.

So perhaps what I should say here is not to compare dissimilar things, but things that don’t have an obvious similarity, in order to make the reader really work for it. And this is true of writing as a whole: you don’t want readers to struggle through your text, but the occasional challenge (such as an unusually structured chapter) will keep them on their toes.

4. Lengthy passages should remain clear

On the note of challenges, and as something of a counterpart to my first lesson, let’s talk about extended metaphors. These are metaphors that draw a comparison between two subjects and elaborate upon that comparison by creating additional parallels.

The full versions of both Shakespeare quotes in this article are actually extended metaphors, as are numerous song lyrics (Taylor Swift is particularly skilled in this arena). But my favorite extended metaphor would have to be The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood / And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood / And looked down one as far as I could / To where it bent in the undergrowth.

This is only the first verse, but the entire poem is an extended metaphor about the choices of life and the various “roads” one might take. It’s lovely, evocative, and easy to understand, despite its length — which I think makes it the quintessential extended metaphor.

While it may seem like all lengthy pieces of prose are inherently confusing, but they certainly don’t have to be! In that vein, try to be just as clear in your longer passages as in your short ones; this will vastly improve your work, and your readers will surely thank you.

5. The best prose becomes proverbial

As you’ve probably surmised from some of the examples given here, the best metaphors are immortalized in the form of everyday wisdom. Here are a few more you’ve surely heard before:

A leopard can’t change its spots.

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

It’s not over until the fat lady sings.

These are all implied metaphors about different kinds of people and situations. But where did they come from originally? Various texts: the Old Testament, Don Quixote, and a short story by Charles Dickens, to be precise. And I’m sure you can think of plenty more common phrases, idioms, and adages that have derived from works of literature.

So if you want to be truly remembered, try to write something pithy and perpetually true that people will say for generations to come. It doesn’t have to be a metaphor — it doesn’t even have to be figurative language! But if you can manage to get to the heart of something in a succinct way, you might just find your words emblazoned on mugs and posted on Wikiquote in the future. And after all, isn’t that every writer’s dream?

Savannah Cordova is a writer with Reedsy, a marketplace that connects authors and publishers with the world’s best editors, designers, and marketers. In her spare time, Savannah enjoys reading contemporary fiction and writing short stories (and occasionally terrible novels). You can read more of her professional work on the Reedsy blog, or personal writing on Medium.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post What Can the Best Metaphors in Literature Teach Us About Writing? appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

If you’ve ever participated in a writing contest, you’ll know that it’s one of the most exhilarating, motivating, and overall craft-stimulating experiences you can have as a writer. Indeed, what starts off as a modest contest entry can even turn into a much bigger project, like a book.

However, the flip side of the coin is that if you’ve entered multiple writing contests and still haven’t won, the experience can become intimidating, demoralizing, and frustrating.

I’ve personally been on both sides of the contest conundrum: I’ve lost time and time again and felt incredibly discouraged, then had all faith in my writing restored after a win. And recently, my knowledge of writing contests has gained yet another dimension — the perspective of a judge, as I help decide the winner of a weekly contest we hold at Reedsy.

My experience as both a writing contest participant and a judge has given me a finely-honed sense of what contributes to a winning entry… and what doesn’t. To that end, here are five innovative strategies that could help you win — some of which I’ve used myself, some of which I’ve seen in action, but all of which have proven concretely successful (as you’ll see from the examples below).

1. Draw from a recent experience

“Write what you know” is some of the most oft-given writing advice for a reason. Writing about something you’ve personally seen, felt, or done lends the story an air of authenticity that’s nearly impossible to replicate in any other way.

My key addition to that advice is to make it recent: the fresher the experience, the stronger your writing about it will be. Of course, if you want to write about something from a long time ago that affected you deeply, that’s your prerogative — but you might find it hard to dredge up the words to describe something that happened months or years ago.

I’ve found that the more recent the experience, the more smoothly the words flow. Indeed, this was the tactic that I used for my story “Perspective,” which actually won the Reedsy short story contest last May (and led me to my current job). When I wrote “Perspective,” I was getting ready to move away from my family and feeling sentimental, which I indulged by watching old home videos. The intensity of emotion I felt then inspired me to write a story that started with a woman watching her home videos and see where things might go from there.

2. Subvert the prompt

Many contests provide writers with a prompt or theme to write about. In this case, another highly effective technique is to subvert the contest theme/prompt. Of course, this can backfire if the rules of the contest are particularly rigid — however, in most cases, judges will appreciate writers who think outside the box.

There are many ways to subvert a prompt. One common method is to switch up the expected genre; for example, if given a dramatic prompt, you might make it comedic instead. You might also interpret the prompt’s phrasing in an unorthodox way, and/or apply it to a subject that nobody else would think of. Two great examples of this from the Reedsy contest are “Leaves” and “Apart,” each of which responds to a quote in such a way that the original speaker never intended, but with utterly brilliant results.

3. Evoke a certain atmosphere

This one can be hard to pull off for writers who’re real plotters and always prioritize story over setting the scene. But bear with me: sometimes it’s best to focus on atmosphere, particularly if setting is a meaningful component of your piece.

You can evoke atmosphere by employing detailed sensory descriptions: what the characters see, hear, smell, touch, everything. Remember to show rather than tell as much as you can, though don’t overwhelm the reader with paragraphs of description — break it up with some dialogue and action.

This also ties into my first piece of advice, in that one of the best ways to create strong atmosphere is to base it off real life. Judges will be much more able to “soak up” the atmosphere of your story if you, too, have experienced it.

If you can, immerse yourself in that environment for a solid hour or two before you start your story, making observations and notes. When you’ve emerged from your sensory cocoon, you’ll be primed to evoke that atmosphere as part of a more polished piece. (If you’re still lost, check out this contest winner, “A Bird in the Hand,” which conjures atmosphere beautifully.)

If you are unable to visit the setting yourself, these tips will help you deliver description that feels real to readers.

4. Try out an unusual POV

Using an unconventional or surprising point of view in your writing can also be a major boon in a contest. Most entries are written in basic first or third person, so using a different POV can really help your piece stand out.

For example, second person POV (in which the narrator addresses their intended audience as “you”) is rare, but very powerful when used well. One of our winning stories that did this was “Local Hero,” in which the narrator speaks directly to her tormented husband. The impact of second person POV here is breathtaking — her sorrow and pain are palpable, and the reader feels almost as though they are responsible for it, since they perceive themselves as the “you.”

You (the writer) might also consider writing in standard first or third person POV, but not revealing who the narrator actually is, or making them unreliable. Finally, you could switch back and forth between different narrators, possible even different types of POV (e.g. between first and third person), which keeps the pacing swift and readers on their toes.

5. Play with temporal structure

Perhaps the most challenging of these suggestions is to experiment with chronology and temporality in your work, disrupting the reader’s conception of how time should work.

A well-established way of doing this is to include flashbacks, which gradually reveal more and more information that coincides with “present-day” events in your story. You can also reverse the timeline — though this is tougher because you can’t just rehash everything backwards. You have to carefully depict information and events in such a way that it reveals something of import; Reedsy contest winner “The Final Day” accomplishes this reveal with great aplomb.

In any case, as you can probably tell, the essential lesson to glean from all of this is: be the most unique version of yourself as an author and write a story only you could write. Ironically, following other people’s advice on the subject won’t get you nearly as far as marching to the beat of your own drum. So be intrepid, go forth, and write!

If you’re feeling inspired to start right now, head on over to our directory of over 300 writing contests you can enter in 2019.

Savannah Cordova is a writer with Reedsy, a marketplace that connects authors and publishers with the world’s best editors, designers, and marketers. In her spare time, Savannah enjoys reading contemporary fiction and writing short stories (and occasionally terrible novels).

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post 5 Innovative Strategies That Could Help You Win a Writing Contest appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.