Scott Oldford Site

Tag: fiction

  • Writing Short Stories? Don’t Make These 4 Submission Mistakes

    Writing Short Stories? Don’t Make These 4 Submission Mistakes

    When you finish a short story, you likely feel a rush of excitement and an urge to share it with the entire world — or, barring that, any short fiction magazine that will take you.

    But in the rush to submit, don’t forget to give your short stories the attention and preparation that will help them succeed. In my three years on the submissions team of Flash Fiction Online, I’ve seen countless submissions with heart-breakingly minor mistakes that kept stories from being considered for publication.

    Make sure your story stands out in the slush pile in a good way. If you’re going to spend the time crafting an intricate, exciting story, make sure to give it the best chance of success.

    Before submitting your next short story to a magazine or online publication, make sure you’re not making these crucial mistakes

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    1. Not following the guidelines

    Of all the writing advice not directly related to putting words on paper, “follow the guidelines” is probably the most common.

    And yet the number of stories FFO rejects each month for not following guidelines is distressingly high. Reasons include technical considerations like using non-standard fonts (Comic sans? Really?) or invalid file types (for example, FFO’s submissions software doesn’t accept .docx files).

    But we also see submissions whose writers have ignored basic requirements like word count and how to submit your work (for example, FFO doesn’t accept email submissions).

    Ignoring the guidelines set by the publication you’re pitching is the worst possible thing you can do for your story. It’s likely going to be rejected without even being read.

    If you want to give your story its fair chance at being selected and published, follow the submission guidelines.

    2. Not researching your market and genre

    Far too many stories in my slush queue play off the same modern-day fairytale or time traveller tropes that other stories have covered before — and done much better.

    Read lots of stories from your genre, especially if you’re writing in it for the first time. Expanding your reading list will help you identify common tropes to avoid — and even better, play with for a unique twist.

    Also, research the magazine you’d like to pitch. Most magazines and websites have their own list of favorite genres and pet peeves, and knowing these preferences will help you pitch the right stories to the appropriate publications, giving you the best chance of success. This information is usually listed in the submission guidelines — so again, read the guidelines.

    3. Not editing and proofreading thoroughly

    Submitting your short story is like going on a first date. You’ve only got one chance to make a good impression, so you’d better be at the top of your game.

    Only submit a story once it’s been spit-shined to perfection. FFO rarely gives writers the chance to revise a story once it’s submitted — and it’s extremely unlikely that a magazine will allow you to withdraw and re-submit the same story.

    To get your story in tip-top shape, do a thorough self-edit to iron out plot holes or character inconsistencies. Make multiple proofreading passes, or consider using an automatic editing tool to help squash typos and grammar errors.

    You might also want to consider running your story past a professional editor or a couple of beta readers for their feedback before submitting.

    4. Not proofreading your cover letter

    Imagine you’re going on a first date with a woman named Melissa. You greet each other, give her flowers, chat for a few moments, and then call her ”Sharon.” How do you think she’s going to respond?

    Yeah, that’s how editors react, too.

    It takes less than a minute to check if you’ve got the right name and publication on your cover letter. Yet FFO often receives submissions that were clearly not meant for us — or if they were, then we know we weren’t your first choice to publish this story.

    We get it — you’re shopping that story around. But we’d like to pretend that we’re just a little bit special to you. (Note that some publications refuse simultaneous submissions, so again — read the guidelines.)

    While you’re checking that you’ve addressed your cover letter to the correct editor and publication, give that letter’s body a thorough proofread as well.

    Where to submit short stories

    Got your story edited, proofread and ready to go? Here are a few markets for short story submissions:

    Want more? Check out this list of 44 places to submit your short story from Joe Bunting of The Write Practice.

    Is your short story ready to be published?

    Just remember that these tips are meant to help your story get into the slush pile. Once your story’s on an editor’s desk, it has to stand (or fall) on its own merits.

    And that, my friends, is an entirely different ball game.

    Do you write short stories? What’s your best tip for other short fiction writers?

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  • How to Write a Novel: A Simple Process for Beating Writer’s Block

    How to Write a Novel: A Simple Process for Beating Writer’s Block

    It’s not easy to write a fiction book, especially if you’re trying for the first or second time.

    When I first started writing fiction, even with years of blogging, copywriting and more under my belt, I still struggled to get the story that was in my head to look good in words on the screen. There were so many moving parts — plot, setting, story, theme, character, description, grammar — it was hard to keep track of everything needed to create a solid, readable story.

    Sometimes I could read something I’d written and tell it wasn’t communicating what I needed it to, but I had no idea what was wrong. Other times, I read it and knew what was wrong, but didn’t know how to fix it.

    This led to frustration, which led to procrastination, which led to writer’s block. It was a vicious cycle that often resulted in months of zero fiction writing. Not good!

    Over the years, I’ve honed on a simple process that has helped me combat all those fears, worries and blocks while writing the first draft: Start with something very, very easy (a sentence or two about your chapter) and build on that little by little.

    I originally wrote about this process as a side note in my article about writing 3,500+ words per hour on a consistent basis, but some writers wanted to dig deeper into the concept. So here it is: my foolproof way to get rid of writer’s block forever (and have a ton of fun writing your novel in the process!).

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    Step 1: Outline your chapters

    Most authors outline already in some way or another. Everyone has their own process and any process will work well with these steps.

    The way I outline is simple: I make a list of my chapters and their basic conflicts. It looks like this:

    Chapter 1: Harry Potter (sort of) defeats He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a baby. In order to protect him, Dumbledore must take him to his muggle relatives, where he’ll be raised outside the magical world.

    Chapter 2: Harry’s muggle relatives treat him terribly and he is an outcast in the non-magical world. He accidentally sends a boa constrictor after them. They think he’s a freak!

    … and so on.

    I tend to have a scene per chapter, but I know many authors who write multiple scenes in a single chapter. In that case, I recommend writing a sentence or two about the conflict in each scene.

    That’s all you have to do to complete your outline!

    Step 2: Create your beats

    The beats step is the one I see most authors skip. This unfortunately often leads to major head-banging down the line. I do not recommend skipping beats.

    Your beats are essentially more detail about each chapter. You’re going to turn two sentences into a few paragraphs. This seems like a lot of work, but it is very, very worthwhile and saves you dozens of hours later.

    What do you write in your paragraphs? Basically, explain what happens in each scene, as if you’re describing your book to a friend. (You could actually describe each scene to your friend if it helps you complete this section.) As you describe your scene, your friend (or you, if you’re doing this alone) is going to ask questions.

    You: Harry Potter (sort of) defeats He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a baby.

    Friend: Wait, who are these people?

    You: Harry Potter is a baby born to these two wizards, and HWMNBN is this all-powerful, but psycho wizard who wants all the other wizards to fear him.

    Friend: Sort of defeats him? Intriguing. How? How exactly does a baby defeat an all-powerful wizard? (Wait a minute…)

    You: Well, it’s a secret for now, but there’s this weird scar on his forehead as a result. MAJOR HINT. Also, “defeated” is a strong word. HWMNBN isn’t quite dead, I wouldn’t say…

    Friend: So how do we know he defeated him?

    You: Well, Dumbledore, this other amazing wizard, is telling several of his wizard friends, this huge one named Hagrid, and Professor Mcgonagall, who appears as a cat at first —

    Friend: Umm…

    You: It’s all explained in Book 4! Anyway…

    You get the picture. Each sentence in your outline can be expanded to 1-2 paragraphs of explanation. You need to decide what specific information/action is going to go in your scene and also how this information is dispensed, how much the reader knows, what the reader and/or the characters actually see and experience, and so on. Those are your beats.

    Your beats save you time in several ways. First, you’re going to tell a better story from the get-go. Your friend is going to give you feedback about what does and doesn’t make sense in real-time, which means that you can fix it before you even start your draft. This means fewer rewrites, less editing, not having to toss huge chunks of work and so on. I call this Nailing Your Outline.

    You’re also not going to suffer from blank page syndrome. Have you ever written a chapter outline that looks like:

    “Harry Potter and Voldemort battle each other and one of them wins.”

    ???

    Yes, that’s technically what happens, but it’s an extremely unhelpful sentence when you finally go to draft. You are going to spend many hours (and plenty of head-banging) trying to write that scene with just that information.

    When you beat this out, though, you’re going to come up with all the little details about why it happens, how it happens, what specifically happens to each character and more. Harry has X weapons and Y friends who help him in the following ways. Voldemort is weak from A, B and C, but he has secret weapon D in his back pocket.” And so on.

    The bad thing about beats is if you do them right, they will be completely unusable as text in your draft. You are writing narrative summary — the “tell” of “show vs. tell.”

    But the great thing about beats, and the reason I recommend them, is because you will create a useful blueprint for your novel that touches on characters, plot, theme, setting and more. This will help your drafting go smoothly, which will save you a ton of time in the long run. Power on!

    Step 3: Get to work on your sketches

    Surely it’s time to draft now, right? Hmm, not so much. Here’s what I’ve learned about aspiring writers, especially ones with day jobs — they don’t exactly have a ton of time to sit down and crank out those words.

    What they have instead is little pockets of time — 25 minutes here, an hour there — where they can write a small bit of their book, if only they could focus. Instead of tackling The Draft, I recommend trying sketches. A sketch is basically a bite-sized draft at half-mast.

    When I beat my scenes, I focus on three “types” of content:

    • Dialogue: a conversation between two or more people
    • Monologue: an internal conversation one is having with their thoughts
    • Action: something that is happening

    Each beat more or less ends up being one of these three types. During the sketch, I write the bare bones or the skeleton of each of these types.

    So if I had a section that was a conversation between two people, I would write:

    “Hi, Ginny,” Harry said.

    “Why are you talking to her?” Ron asked.

    Harry shrugged. “She looked like she wanted to talk to us. Do you want to play, Ginny?”

    Ginny stared at them blankly.

    “Ginny?” Hermione said. “Are you okay? Your cheeks are turning red!”

    Ron sighed. “Well, now you’ve done it. Ginny’s run off and all she left was this very odd looking notebook with the name ‘Ginny Potter’ scrawled about a hundred –” Ron looked up at Harry. “Hey, wait a minute!”

    “Give me that!” Hermione said, snatching the notebook from Ron. She put it behind her back. “This is private. You shouldn’t be touching your sister’s belongings.”

    Ron glared at Harry. “What are you doing in her diary? Are you snogging my sister?!”

    Harry grinned. “Your sister is just one of my groupies. Remember? I’m the boy who lived, which is the magical equivalent of being Harry Styles. She can’t help but fall for this hella-good hair.”

    Basic dialogue sketch, right? No information about where they are or what they’re doing. I’ll add in all of that later, if the sketch makes it into the scene to begin with (it might fit better in another scene, or not at all). But for now, I’m just sketching.

    Think of sketching as drawing a very light line on the page for where you think you might want to go with the scene. You aren’t writing in ink. You aren’t adding any color. Don’t over-think this part. Don’t second-guess yourself. Just have fun and let the words flow.

    The most important thing about a sketch is it’s flexible. I could add in details to this scene and put them at the Weasley bungalow, or I could put them in Potions class, or I could put them on the Hogwarts Express with just a few simple tweaks to the dialogue. This flexibility makes it easy for me to “see” my story being told, but still move it around, reorder it and make it work as needed.

    The other great thing? This little section of dialogue took me less than five minutes to create and jot down. I was lightning fast not because I’m a genius writer, but because I removed a ton of decisions from the sketch. The fewer decisions you have to make while writing, the better your flow will be. Simple!

    That is sketching. It may or may not work for you, depending on the type of writer you are, but if you are a big-picture type like me, this is a simple way to finish your draft quickly in the in-between moments of your daily life.

    Do a few sketches per day and soon you will have a ton of chapters ready to go into draft mode. Finally!

    Step 4: Start writing a draft

    At this point, I can’t imagine you will have much trouble writing your draft. You’ve done a lot of the work already!

    During the draft, I add in the following “types” of content:

    • Description: the scene setting, what the characters are wearing and even description of what they are doing within a conversation — Ginny is tilting her head, Ron is tapping his foot, etc.
    • Narrative Transitions: characters move around and sometimes you have to show that they were in the Great Hall eating dinner, and now they are in the Gryffindor Common room playing chess. Movement that doesn’t have a direct impact on the story is quite boring, so this usually only needs a sentence or two; however, leave it out and your readers will be seriously confused as their minds magically transport through time and space (though, to be fair, this is Harry Potter).
    • Color: I smooth out the wrinkles in the writing and add a bit of personality to styling  the sentences themselves. Mostly, this means making the draft funnier or more clever. Sometimes, it means describing different types of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour jellybeans. You know that extra pizazz you need to add to your story to bring out its magic — now’s the time.

    When I was studying computer programming, my professors always had a rule that the first step of writing any program was to get it to compile. That meant that the computer could actually read the code it was receiving. It didn’t mean that the code did what it was supposed to do, or that it was efficient or stylish — it just meant that the computer could comprehend it.

    To me, the draft is the “compile” step. You want to take all the fragments of content you have and string them together into something that a human can actually read. It doesn’t mean the writing does what it’s supposed to do, or that it’s efficient or stylish — it just means that a human can understand it.

    Once you’re done with your first draft, you can go on to revising, editing, and so on — but I hope you’ll be pleased with how much faster these processes go. Using these four steps isn’t only going to make you a stronger storyteller and better writer in the long run; it’s also going to help you tell this story well the first time. Which means you’ll be able to write the first draft faster and spend less time editing (and head-banging) later on!

    Follow these four steps and I’m confident that you will not only finish your first draft quickly, but you will never have that awful, debilitating writer’s block on your novel again — and you might even learn a lot more about how you like to tell a story. Good luck!

    What’s your writing process like — do you use outlines, beats and sketches to help you draft?

    Don’t forget to comment to be in the running to win one of 10 copies of Write Better, Faster: How To Triple Your Writing Speed and Write More Every Day! (Update: All winners have been contacted.)

  • How to Write a Novel, 15 Minutes at a Time

    How to Write a Novel, 15 Minutes at a Time

    “What do you mean, you wrote this in 15 minutes?”

    The woman seated across from me at a writer’s group was waving my novel around like a flag. I’d just been discussing the 15-Minute Writing Method to the group who’d invited me to speak about my second novel, Dark Circle, and what my writing process was like.

    “Just that. I write in 15-minute chunks, most days of the week. And then,” I waved my own hand toward the book she was holding, “voila!”

    Of course, as I explained, it’s not quite that simple.

    What’s the 15-Minute Writing Method?

    The 15-Minute Writing Method is something I came up with while working on my first novel. I’d tried (and failed) quite a few times to complete a manuscript for a full-length work.

    I would start out all shimmery and starburst, trying to replicate the writing process of famous, bestselling authors who write thousands of words or many hours a day. Hugh Howey, for instance, writes for four to five hours every day. Charles Hamilton, an English author, was said to have written 20 full-length pages each day.

    However, an hour or two into my writing time, the glitter would fade. I’d get bored and set the novel aside. I always intended to pull it back out at some point, but I never did. Instead, weeks or months later, I’d dream up a new idea for a new novel. And then I’d start the process all over again.

    Frustrated with myself after yet another failed attempt, I decided to try something new.

    Writers with short attention spans — or those struggling to fit writing around a full-time job, a family or other commitments  — this is for you.

    Here’s the plan: Write for 15 minutes, most days of the week.

    That’s it?

    While there is obviously a bit more involved, the basic premise is this: break down what can look like a huge, overwhelming task into tiny, bite-sized pieces.

    Look at marathon runners: they don’t begin their training by trying to run 26.2 miles. Instead, they run many shorter distances to build stamina, and slowly increase the mileage as they get stronger. Why would you start writing a book by trying to write the entire book?

    Here are five tips that will help you make the most of the 15-Minute Rule:

    1. Look at writing a novel as simply forming a new habit

    This perspective makes the task so much less intimidating! Have you ever trained yourself to floss your teeth? Eat healthier foods? Stop swearing? These are all habits, just like writing.

    I highly recommend reading The Compound Effect by Darren Hardy, which describes how small, seemingly inconsequential changes add up over time. It’s up to us to decide if these little tweaks are positive or negative in nature.

    Try to work with your natural tendencies, not against them. If you are most creative in the morning, squeeze in your 15 minutes of writing as soon as you wake up or before you leave for your day job. More of a night owl? Make your daily writing a before-bed habit, right after you brush your teeth.

    2. Remember, it’s only 15 minutes

    When I first started exercising as a teenager, I never dreamed I’d be able to run three miles (or even one). I was an overweight kid and adolescent, and the thought of doing really big things athletically was outside of my thought process.

    But I could walk for five minutes, so that’s where I started.

    You can do just about anything for just 15 minutes (or 10, or five), so start there. Think you don’t have even a few minutes to focus on your writing? Try giving up something that you don’t need, like watching TV (even the news), or setting strict limits on social media time.

    3. Set a big goal and break it into pieces

    Set a date to complete your first draft and mark it on your calendar. Make sure it’s reasonable, given that you’ll be writing in shorter chunks rather than marathon sessions. While writing my first novel, Epidemic, I was working full time. I wrote in 15-minute chunks before leaving in the morning, and completed a first draft (ugly, yes, but complete) in approximately five months.

    Next, look at your calendar and work backwards, setting up mini-goals like “get to 15,000 words”  or “complete chapter nine.” Add in some fun rewards for these smaller goals. Nothing says “yay” to me like a bouquet of fresh flowers or some pretty new office supplies.

    4. Avoid editing

    While of course you want to produce a polished, well-edited final draft, there is a time and place for editing — and it’s not while you’re in the process of getting that icky first draft out.

    Minimize the urge to edit by not re-reading what you’ve written. If you need to reorient yourself in the story at the start of a writing session, go back and read the last paragraph or two of yesterday’s work, but don’t allow yourself to look at any more than that.

    5. Don’t beat yourself up

    If you miss a day, or several, it’s ok — just jump right back into your process. Allowing that critical inner voice free rein here does no good and a lot of harm. Start fresh the next day, and keep going. Over time, it will feel strange not to have your 15-minute writing session!

    Let the process of writing your novel be as messy and ugly as it needs to be. But don’t make it harder than it is by setting huge and overwhelming goals for your writing time or word count. Ease yourself into your new habit by working on your manuscript for just 15 minutes a day. You’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish.

    Have you tried breaking your writing sessions into short, daily chunks? How did it work for you?

  • Horror Authors: How to Scare the Heck Out of Your Readers

    Horror Authors: How to Scare the Heck Out of Your Readers

    If you’re writing horror, dark fantasy, thrillers or anything else that requires suspense, a good jump-scare or anything that might terrorize your readers, you’ve probably already know that the written word can fill you with dread, and even startle you. Those feelings aren’t reserved for the movies.

    But how much study have you put into how your favorite horror authors have gone about scaring you with the written word?

    Movies rely on editing, music cues, performance, special visual and makeup effects . . . a whole parade of cinematic tools. But in prose all we have to work with are words, and our readers’ imaginations. The good news is that those are powerful tools.

    Though you may not have much control over any individual reader’s imagination, or his interpretation of your work, the ways you arrange words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs can activate your readers’ psyches in ways you may not have thought possible.

    It all comes down to breathing

    Even when reading silently, we tend to breathe along with what we’re reading as if we were reading it aloud. It’s impossible for us to turn certain parts of our brain off and when something causes us to start breathing differently, that forces us into different states. When you’re in a blind panic you tend to hyperventilate, breathing in quick, shallow gasps. When you’re nervous or anxious about something (the feeling of suspense), you tend to hold your breath, and breathe more slowly.

    The good news for horror and thriller authors is that these processes also work in reverse. If you can force that breathing state (or, more accurately, some smaller, less physically traumatic version of that state) in your readers, you’ll bring on the requisite psychological response.

    Evoking suspense and anxiety

    When you’re building suspense, evoking a feeling of impending doom or the terrifying fear of the unknown, get your reader to hold her breath. Stop her from taking her next breath for longer than normal. And though it may seem impossible to do this with words on a page, remember what I said about how we unconsciously breathe as though we’re reading aloud even when we aren’t.

    One of the reasons that sentences are finite is that the period at the end allows us a breath. Paragraphs give us a chance to take a deeper breath. So if you want your reader to slow her breathing and start feeling nervous, anxious or fearful, keep your sentences long, and your paragraphs even longer.

    Very near the beginning of Shirley Jackson’s classic The Haunting of Hill House, the protagonist, Eleanor, is on her way to meet her fellow paranormal investigators at a house that’s known to be haunted. Though excited about being a part of something potentially important, and getting away from her dreary life in the city, Eleanor is terrified of what she’ll find there, not just from ghosts but as a result of what we’d now refer to as social anxiety. The closer she gets to the house, the more anxious she is.

    Jackson conveys this anxiety with a single paragraph wherein Eleanor makes a stop in a small town along the way and has a cup of coffee. It’s an innocuous scene, but told in a tight POV, it’s incredibly nerve-wracking. This single paragraph consists of ten sentences. The first of those sentences is the shortest at 28 words. The last is the longest at 52 words.

    Think about the last time you read, much less wrote, a sentence that’s 52 words long.

    By the end of that monster paragraph, Shirley Jackson left her readers gasping for air, and helped solidify The Haunting of Hill House as one of the undisputed classics of the genre.

    Eliciting horror and panic

    On the flip side, eventually the monster, serial killer or villain finally reveals himself and the terror (a generalized, creepy dread) turns to horror (the visceral reaction to a traumatic event in progress).

    Now you want to do just the opposite: Force your readers to breathe too often. Get them hyperventilating. Do this with short sentences. Even shorter paragraphs.

    One-sentence paragraphs.

    In another classic haunted house tale, Hell House, author Richard Matheson evokes this feeling of panic in one scene of nine paragraphs, each with no more than two short sentences. Readers have been trained to take a full breath after each paragraph, so breaths are coming fast and furious through:

    She stopped with a gasp and looked at the Spanish table.

    The telephone was ringing.

    It can’t, she thought. It hasn’t worked in more than thirty years.

    She wouldn’t answer it. She knew who it was.

    It kept on ringing, the shrill sounds stabbing at her eardrums, at her brain.

    She mustn’t answer it. She wouldn’t.

    The telephone kept ringing.

    “No,” she said.

    Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

    I know — technically, that last paragraph has four sentences, but let’s consider that staccato stacking of “Ringing”s as one sentence with partial breaths between each word.

    Instead of a single ten-sentence-long paragraph, we have paragraphs of one or two sentences, with the longest sentence/paragraph clocking in at 14 words, or precisely half the length of Shirley Jackson’s shortest sentence.

    Following this scene, there are a couple of slightly longer paragraphs as the protagonist tries to take charge of the situation, but this is quickly dismissed by more staccato attacks on the senses. And, like The Haunting of Hill House, the ongoing success of Hell House is proof of its effectiveness.

    Putting this technique into practice

    This idea of controlling your readers’ breathing is not the be-all-end-all of “writing scary,” but with some practice it will work for you.

    And being aware of when to best use this strategy will also prevent you from overusing it, and move the majority of your prose somewhere into the readable, accessible, and comfortable center — until you want things to start getting scary again.

    Do you “write scary”? Have you tried this technique to control your reader’s breathing?

  • Writing a Novel? 6 Visual Storytelling Techniques to Borrow From Film and TV

    Writing a Novel? 6 Visual Storytelling Techniques to Borrow From Film and TV

    Many of us were raised watching thousands of movies and television shows. The style, technique and methods used in film and TV are so familiar to us, we process them comfortably. To some degree, we now expect these elements to appear in the novels we read — if not consciously, then subconsciously.

    We know what makes a great, riveting scene in a movie, and what makes a boring one — at least viscerally. And though our tastes differ, certainly, for the most part we agree when a scene “works” or doesn’t. It either accomplishes what the writer or director has set out to do, or it flops.

    As writers, we can learn from this visual storytelling; what makes a great movie can also strengthen a novel or short story. Much of the technique filmmakers use can be adapted to fiction writing.

    Break up your scenes into segments

    Just as your novel comprises a string of scenes that flow together to tell your story, so do movies and television shows.

    However, as a novelist, you lay out your scenes much differently from the way a screenwriter or director does. Whereas you might see each of your scenes as integrated, encapsulated moments of time, a movie director sees each scene as a compilation of a number of segments or pieces — a collection of camera shots that are subsequently edited and fit together to create that seamless “moment of time.” By thinking in terms of segments in creating each scene, writers can create a dynamic, visually powerful story.

    So how can novelists structure scenes with cinematic technique in a way that will supercharge their writing? Here are six steps that will help you structure your novel as if you were a filmmaker:

    1. Identify key moments

    Think through your scene and try to break it up into a number of key moments. First, you have the opening shot that establishes the scene and setting. Then, identify some key moments in which something important happens, like a complication or twist, then jot those down.

    Then write down the key moment in the scene  — the “high moment” — that reveals something important about the plot or characters. That should come right at or very near the end. You may have an additional moment following that is the reaction or repercussion of the high moment.

    2. Consider your POV

    Now you have a list of “camera shots.” Think of each segment on your list, then imagine where your “camera” needs to be to film this segment.

    Remember, you are in a character’s POV — either a first-person narrator telling and experiencing the story or a third-person character in that role. So consider where that character is physically as he sees and reacts to the key moments happening in your scene. You now have your “direction” so that you can write this scene dynamically. Come in close to see important details. Pull back to show a wider perspective and a greater consequence to an event.

    3. Add background noise

    Consider what sounds are important in this scene. They could be ordinary sounds that give ambiance for the setting, but also think of some sound or two that you can insert into the scene that will stand out and deepen the meaning for your character.

    Church bells ringing could remind a character of her wedding day as she heads to the courthouse to file divorce papers. Birds chirping happily in a tree next to a grieving character can sound like mocking and deepen the grief.

    4. Color your scenes

    Colors can be used for powerful effect. Different colors have strong psychological meaning, and filmmakers often use color very deliberately. Red implies power; pink, weakness. You can “tinge” your scenes with color and increase the visual power. Color can also add symbolism to an object or be a motif.

    Want to learn more? A great book to read is Patti Bellantoni’s If It’s Purple, Someone’s Gonna Die.

    5. Think about camera angles

    The angle of a “shot” also has powerful psychological effect. A camera looking up at a character implies he is important or arrogant or powerful or superior. A camera looking down implies someone who is weak or inferior or oppressed or unimportant.

    If your character is in a scene with others and feels superior, you might have him elevated or being seen from below to emphasize this. A woman being fired might be sitting in a chair with the boss standing over her. These little touches add visual power.

    6. Include texture and detail

    Consider adding texture. Too often, novelists put their characters in boring settings, without saying where they are, what time of year it is, or what the weather is like. We exist in a physical world, and movies showcase setting and scenery in great detail.

    Add texture to your scene by infusing it with weather and sensual details of the surrounding area. The feeling of the air in late fall in the middle of the night in Vermont as two characters walk through a park is texture the reader will “feel” if you bring it to life in your scene.

    Novelists who think like filmmakers can create stunningly visual stories that will linger long after the last page is read. Spend some time using a filmmaker’s eye to take your scenes to the next level, giving them dynamic imagery and sensory details as well as deliberately placing characters, colors and sounds in your scenes for targeted psychological effect.

    If we want to move readers emotionally by our stories, the best way is to bring our novel to life by using cinematic techniques.

    Have you tried using these cinematic techniques to bring your story to life? Can you think of a novel you’ve read that used colors or sounds in a significant symbolic way? Share in the comments!

  • Writing Fiction: 3 Ways to Build a Stronger Story

    Writing Fiction: 3 Ways to Build a Stronger Story

    Authors face a great many challenges as we put together our manuscripts. Primary among them is working to erase our tracks on the page, creating a seamless connection between readers and our fictional world.

    In this, Kevin Spacey’s quote from The Usual Suspects (originally from Charles Baudelaire’s The Generous Gambler and paraphrased in C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters) is remarkably apt:

    “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.”

    So how do all we author-devils go about convincing our readers we don’t exist?

    After analyzing all 71 individual scenes in the latest draft of my novel, I discovered one common problem: my authorial presence on the page created barriers between the action and the reader. I needed to get out of the way.

    Narrowing in revealed three main areas where my footprints on the page depressed the action. I had created a protagonist I really liked, but who was one–dimensional; I was filtering the action in my descriptions; and I was oversharing irrelevant setting and description details.

    Developing solutions to each challenge tightened my scenes and helped build a closer connection to the conflict playing out across the narrative. Here’s how I did it:

    1. Issue: A one-dimensional, likable protagonist

    When I’m reading a novel and I encounter a one-dimensional protagonist, it’s like I’ve sat down in a poorly made chair. I immediately wonder, “Who made this?” If a reader asks that question of a story, the author may not have done enough work to create a character independent of themselves and let the reader experience the tale without wondering how it was made.

    Great stories seem organic, as though the author channeled them, rather than created them. The writing can be brilliant, and the reader will notice the beauty in the construction of sentences and paragraphs, but what they absolutely shouldn’t notice are clunky story mechanics, including poorly realized characters. These reveal a sort of clumsiness — and clumsiness draws the author out into the open.

    [bctt tweet=”Great stories seem organic, as though the author channeled them, rather than created them. “]

    It’s tough to give your hero faults and flaws: vanity, an ego, even dark, criminal impulses. If you do, how can he or she possibly remain a good protagonist? Aren’t all our heroes free of vice?

    The most believable heroes are people not too different from us, with all the complexities and challenges we face each and every day. A great story, in which your protagonist achieves great things, is all the more satisfying when that character reaches her goal despite the challenges of her situation and setbacks that real or perceived imperfections cause. As David Corbett says in his epic The Art of Character:

    “Its far more important that we empathize with a character than like her, which is just as true of villains as heroes. And empathy is created by a well-drawn character taking on a convincing dramatic problem, in which compelling wants are at stake in the face of potentially overwhelming opposition. We feel for such a character, even if she is imperfect, for we all understand that necessity compels us to act as we must, not as we should.”

    Our characters acting as they must — and not as they should — is a hallmark of separation from the author. It is the antithesis of contrivance because, as protagonists become believable individuals — with warts and all — they tend to make decisions that reflect their many varied facets.

    Solution: Give your protagonist flaws

    Learn to cultivate flaws in your protagonists. Collect and log them. If you don’t know where to begin, gather inspiration on key character flaws, and learn why your character needs them. We like flaws because they make our characters vulnerable and allow us to empathize with them — precisely because they are not perfect, because they are like us.

    My protagonist, Duncan, had many likeable qualities in my first draft. He was well-intentioned, moral and without vice; a victim but rarely a predator. And, over the course of the book, while he dealt with certain troublesome episodes, nothing forced him to change. His flaws were in no way tied to the obstacles blocking him from achieving his goals. He was without reproach; in other words, boring.

    In my rewrite, I peppered Duncan with flaws. I wrote about what might shame or embarrass him. I flung at him snobbery, pedantry and annoying idiosyncrasies. I applied these flaws to specific scenes to see how they would change his decisions — and noticed an immediate and remarkable positive effect.

    Suddenly, Duncan was making his own choices, rather than me making them for him. He began acting as he must, not as he should — and in doing so gained an important separation from my undue influence.

    2. Issue: Filtering the action and description

    Certain words filter the action from the point-of-view character to the reader. They disrupt your story’s flow by creating distance between the reader and the action on the page.

    These filter words riddled my first pass with such interruptions. In fact, here are just a few from my finished first draft, in order of their egregiousness:

    to look: 300

    to think:  111

    to see: 91

    to hear: 66

    to feel (or feel like):  51

    to seem: 50

    to realize:  13

    to wonder:  9

    to watch: 8

    to decide: 8

    to touch:  5

    Solution: Ruthlessly remove filter words

    At first, it’s tough to spot these filter words. Here are a few of my favorite resources on reducing filters and eliminating telling words. Author Jami Gold has an impressive list for creating specific Word Macros that help you find filter words during your revision phase.

    Below are three examples of where I found and removed filters:

    Filter: “Nonsense,” Duncan said, feeling the letters N and S crash against the numb shores of this front teeth prior to completing the sounds.

    No Filter: “Nonsense,” Duncan said — the letters N and S crashed against the numb shores of his front teeth.

    Filter: “I advise you to pay thanks to the general for bestowing this honor upon you, rather than question the method of payment. You and I both know what this order will do for . . .” he looked around at the dirt pens, the long grass and the crumbling house, muddied, with hay tipping over onto the roof, “this business.”

    No Filter: “I advise you to pay thanks to the general for bestowing this honor upon you, rather than question the method of payment,” the soldier said. The heat was sweltering in the crumbling  pens. Muddied, matted hay hung from the roof. He drew his sleeve to his nose. “You and I both know what word of our order will do for . . . this business.”

    Filter: “Sure, sure,” she said. “Does he know he’s meeting you . . . Duncan?” She looked down over her empty pad toward his name, scribbled in eyeliner pencil.

    No Filter: “Sure, sure,” Sheila said. “Does he know he’s meeting you . . . Duncan?” She drew her painted fingernail down over the empty pad and toward where his name was scribbled in eyeliner pencil.

    As with many writing rules, consider it a suggestion more than a fundamental requirement. You may find mere awareness of filters helps you to write tighter, more vivid descriptions.

    3. Issue: Oversharing setting and description details

    Writers know more about their story’s setting and their characters’ thoughts than anyone else. The problem is, we often share more than is necessary, leading to large chunks of description and internal monologue that break a scene’s momentum.

    We all know the rule: show more and tell less. But it’s become a cliche because it can be interpreted about a million different ways — so what the heck does it mean in practice?

    When we write scenes, we present an isolated viewpoint on a moment of conflict to advance the story for the reader. In a moment of conflict, people rarely notice what’s happening around them. They don’t take in exhaustive setting details or spend time trying to analyze their surroundings. They are in the action — where every move, every word, every detail either helps them get what they want, or pushes it further away.

    Imagine being in the front row of a play. To access the moment of conflict on stage, you need to be close to the action as it occurs. If a narrator is standing between you and the actors, they depress the intimacy of the action. So, showing is largely about getting out of the way of the action — drawing out into plain view only those items that advance the scene.

    Subtext is important here — the ability to tease out items that add meaning to a scene without drawing too much attention to them. For example, consider Big Jim Rennie’s golden baseball in Stephen King’s Under the Dome. To Rennie, the baseball at first represents power and prestige, until it becomes a literal manifestation of those delusions. When the violent drama finally plays out on the page, the baseball’s established subtext enriches the scene without impeding the action.

    Solution: Visualize your telling

    In a pass during your rewrite, visualize where you tell more than show. In each scene, create two different highlights — yellow for setting and pink for internal monologue. Highlight the blocks, then print out the scene and look at where your interjections slow the action of that scene. What details are unnecessary to the subtext of that isolated moment?

    Of course, telling can be useful for summary scenes to help the reader understand the aftermath of several intense scenes of conflict. In many plays, narrators come on stage at the beginning, in between scenes, and maybe at the end to recap the action. Such pacing mechanisms give the reader time to take a breath before plunging back into the action. But in most cases, scenes benefit from cutting down — or eliminating altogether — those interjections that slow action and impede the story.

    Have you found it challenging to remove yourself from a story? How do you take yourself out of your fiction writing?

  • Write Better Stories By Asking These Questions

    Write Better Stories By Asking These Questions

    Novel writing is tricky; there are countless essential components that all need to mesh cohesively to produce a great result. The key to reaching that goal is to ask a lot of questions.

    Starting a novel is asking a question. What if …? What would someone do if …? What if the world was like this and this happened …? Those initial questions lead to more questions, which shape and bring life to characters and story. Questions are the key to story.

    Over thousands of hours critiquing and editing manuscripts, I’ve noticed that there are some questions I seem to ask a lot, which tells me there are some general gaps that many writers have in common in their novel-constructing processes. As you work on your next fiction project, keep these questions in mind.

    Where is this scene taking place?

    A reader shouldn’t have to ask this question, right? The writer is thinking, Isn’t it obvious? I know where this scene is taking place.

    Unfortunately, readers can’t read your mind. The biggest problem I see in novel scenes is the lack of sufficient information to help the reader “get” where a scene is taking place. Just a hint of setting, shown from the character’s point of view, can do wonders. And what’s usually missing is not just the locale but the smells and sounds, a sense of the time of day and year, and exactly where in the world it is.

    How much time has passed?

    So many scenes dive into dialogue or action without letting the reader know how much time has passed since the last scene. Scenes needs to flow and string together in cohesive time. It’s important to know if five minutes or five months have passed, and it only takes a few words to make that clear. Don’t leave your reader confused.

    What is your character feeling right now?

    This is a biggie. It alternates with “How does your character react to this?” I often read bits of action or dialogue that should produce a reaction from the POV character, but the scene just zooms ahead without an indication of what the character is feeling or thinking.

    For every important moment, your character needs to react. First viscerally, then emotionally, physically and finally intellectually. If you get hit by a car, you aren’t going to first think logically about what happened and what you need to do next. First, you scream or your body slams against the sidewalk or you feel pain streaking through your back.

    Keep this adage in mind: for every action, there should be an appropriate, immediate reaction. That’s how you reveal character. (Click to tweet this idea.)

    What is the point of this scene?

    This is a scary question. Not for the editor — for the author. Because if there’s no point to a scene, it shouldn’t be in your novel. Really.

    Every scene has to have a point: to reveal character or plot. And it should have a “high moment” that the scene builds to.

    What is your protagonist’s goal?

    If she doesn’t have a goal, you don’t really have a story. The reader wants to know your premise as soon as possible, and that involves your main character having a need to get something, go somewhere, do something or find something.

    That goal should drive the story and be the underlayment for all your scenes. That goal is the glue that holds a novel together. It may not be a huge goal, and in the end, your character may fail to reach that goal — you’re the writer; you decide. But have a goal.

    There are, of course, a whole lot more questions than these, and many are just as important to crafting a powerful novel. If you can get in the habit of continually asking questions as you delve into your novel, you may find they will lead you to the heart of your story.

    What questions help you develop your stories?

  • Why You Shouldn’t Worry About Copyright — And Focus on Craft Instead

    Why You Shouldn’t Worry About Copyright — And Focus on Craft Instead

    You’ve been working hard on your book, crafting your characters, creating the plot arc, developing scenes and providing structure for your story.

    It’s all coming together. The story flows, your beta readers love it, the editor has clarified your prose and the book cover is spectacular. You are thrilled to hit publish.

    As if in a dream, sales begin to grow.

    Then, the dream becomes a nightmare: someone else takes your story. At least they seem to have taken your story. Scene after scene appear in someone else’s work as though lifted from your own. It’s not exactly the same, but nearly.

    Surely, they can’t do this, you think. This must be illegal, at least unethical. Amazon should be told, you think. The other author’s work should be taken down.

    But Amazon won’t take down the work because there is no plagiarism. There is no infringement. Your work is not protected.

    Confused? Here’s why your work may not be protected and what you can do to make sure it is.

    There are only so many ways to depict common themes

    Perhaps you’ve written a gritty coming-of-age story about a young man whose tumultuous upbringing exposes him to a life of crime and violence which he is able to overcome. It’s about life in a hardened inner-city neighborhood, complete with drug corners, intimidating dealers, crack houses, prostitutes and chases with the “five-oh.”

    The fact is, any story about life in America’s decaying inner cities will have these scenes and characters. It’s nearly impossible to tell a story in that setting without those elements.

    Standard depictions of common themes are in the public domain. Scenes which are expected in the treatment of any given topic are not protected by copyright law. They are considered scènes à faire, or scenes that must be done.

    If someone else writes a book with a theme similar to yours, there are going to be characters and scenes that will be common to both. Your use of those common elements will not be protected by copyright law.

    Develop complexity

    If you want your work to be protected, do not write in clichés. Be uncommon. Use your voice to give your story a life of its own.

    Be Uncommon

    Focus on developing feel, character, plot, mood, pace, setting and the sequence of events in your story. These are the things that make your work unique and give it protection under the law — and in the eyes of your readers, who often respect originality and disdain copyists.

    The prostitute with a heart of gold is a character found in so many stories that she has become trite. But if she is written thoughtfully, as a complex character with specific conflicting attributes, the prostitute is no longer a cliché. She will have added richness for your readers. The richness will provide greater protection under copyright law because you have wrapped a standard character in unique expression.

    It is the expression you want to protect, not the idea of the prostitute with a heart of gold.

    Engage the senses

    Although a scene may be common, a fully expressed mood that permeates a reader’s senses while reading the scene is unique.  Marianne Richmond has a great post demonstrating how to add further depth to your writing with respect to the senses.

    In our story of the inner-city youth overcoming the odds, reach beyond the standard sketch of the drug dealers on the corner. Provide an enhanced description of the smell of the unwashed junkie buying his hit, the sodden feel of the dollar bills, and the oppressive heat radiating off the concrete shimmering with broken vials.

    Tell your story uniquely

    An inevitable scene in a city-is-tough story is the fight scene when the protagonist either gets beaten into submission by the street lord or acquits himself in combat well enough to earn respect and some measure of peace. Think of The Karate Kid.

    Dig into that fight scene in a way that makes it unlike others to develop a scene with unique description and pace.

    Avoiding clichés in your writing will help you produce a better, stronger and more engaging book. Then, if someone does copy your work, you will have a greater claim of protection and Amazon may remove the offender’s book and perhaps even ban that writer from KDP — potentially faster justice than a lawsuit.

    How have you kept your work protected from copycats?

  • Yes, Fiction Writers Can Develop Awesome Online Platforms, Too

    Yes, Fiction Writers Can Develop Awesome Online Platforms, Too

    You know you should create your own online home and “develop a readership” before your book comes out. But what exactly does that mean? How do you actually do that?

    When I first started building an audience for my book, I wanted to find examples of individuals who were doing it well. There are lots of great examples from the non-fiction world, but how are fiction writers accomplishing this? How were they structuring their online presence? How were they interacting with potential readers? And what the heck were they writing and talking about?

    Stellar examples of authors with engaged readerships

    If you spend any time on various online platforms, you’ll find a lot of marginal content: individuals who are purely self-promotional or websites with poor design. To give you some great models to emulate, here are some examples of authors who are engaging their readers in a meaningful way.

    Blogging

    Many of us know Joanna Penn from her popular blog, The Creative Penn, but she is also an accomplished mystery/suspense author.

    Joanna has successfully made the leap from self-published to traditionally published author. At her author site, JFPenn.com, she blogs about ancient books, cities, and the psychology of religion — all common themes in her novels. She also interviews other authors in the same genre.

    Joshilyn Jackson also provides a great example of what to write about on a blog. She’s had her blog since 2004 — eons in the blogging world. Joshilyn makes a big distinction between blogging for writers and blogging for readers. She blogs for her readers and mostly blogs about “ridiculous stories of the messes I tend to get myself into.” Joshilyn’s blog has the same strong voice and wittiness that she’s known for in her novels.

    Facebook

    Dana Stabenow is a mystery author with more than 20 published novels. She’s a master at cultivating an engaged readership. A group of dedicated fans dubbed themselves the “Danamaniacs” over twelve years ago. They have their own Facebook page to discuss Dana’s work and hold online chats.

    Dana has offered a digital newsletter, the “Roadhouse Report,” since 2004. Dana is also active on Facebook and posts frequently about life in Alaska — her home and the setting for all of her novels — and other topics she finds interesting or intriguing. With more than 11,000 Facebook fans and 1,200+ Danamaniacs, she has a loyal and engaged group of readers.

    Pinterest

    The tagline of fantasy author Justine Musk’s site is “because you are a creative badass.” She has two traditionally published novels and an active presence on Twitter.

    What makes Justine unique is she’s using Pinterest as a planning tool for her next novel. The images she pins range from tattoos to quotes that hint at a troubled soul and a dark side. I know I’m intrigued. (Inspired by this idea? Click to tweet it!)

    Online forums

    Neil Gaiman’s work ranges from comics, short stories and novels to films. He posts frequently in his online journal but he has also created a message board where readers can interact and discuss his work. Go check the forums to see how they work, but beware the rabbit hole: there are over 250,000 posts.

    Twitter

    Maureen Johnson, a UK-based author dubbed the “Queen of Teen,” has an active presence on Twitter. She’s recently taken up knitting and has promised a badly knitted scarf for anyone who could help her gather 8,000 Twitter followers after a snubbing by @Huffpostbooks.

    Whether that was an ill-willed or in-jest comment, Maureen isn’t afraid to let herself be seen and she posts witty comments about current events and quirky things that catch her eye. She’s funny, relevant and her followers love her.

    Google+

    John Scalzi writes sci-fi fantasy and graphic novels. He’s active on Google+ and often posts upcoming book covers for his graphic novels. He also engages his readers in photo caption contests and posts teasers of first lines of his work-in-progress.

    Finding common themes in your writing is a great place to start engaging your audience for a fiction writer. Much in the same way that it takes some trial and error to develop your voice as an author, it will also take some time to find your online voice on your platform of choice. You may even need to experiment with several platforms before you find one that’s the best fit for you.

    Five steps to developing your own engaged readership

    So how do you follow in these great authors’ footsteps? Here are a few places to start.

    1. Observe some fiction authors with great engagement. You can start by following our list, but aim for 10-15 different authors to see a wide variety of examples.

    2. What do you like about how they engage their readers?

    3. What do you dislike?

    4. Model the style of the authors whose engagement resonates with you on the platform of your choosing.

    5. Continue to hone your voice and find your own style.

    Bonus points: Eventually you’ll want to provide your fans an opportunity to not only interact with you but also interact with one another.

    Most importantly? Be yourself.

    Regardless of which platform you choose for concentrating your energies, building an online engagement with your readers is time well spent. You’ll be building loyal fans, one reader at a time.

    Did we miss any fiction authors who have great reader engagement online? Let us know in the comments.

  • The Worst Ways to Begin Your Novel: Advice from Literary Agents

    The Worst Ways to Begin Your Novel: Advice from Literary Agents

    No one reads more novel beginnings than literary agents.

    They’re the ones on the front lines, sifting through inboxes and slush piles. And they can tell us which Chapter One approaches are overused and cliché, as well as which writing techniques just plain don’t work when you’re writing a book.

    Below, find a smattering of feedback from experienced literary agents on what they hate to see in the first pages of a writer’s submission. Consider this a guide on how to start a novel. Avoid these problems and tighten your submission!

    Here are some of the worst ways to start a novel.

    False beginnings

    “I don’t like it when the main character dies at the end of Chapter One. Why did I just spend all this time with this character? I feel cheated.”
    – Cricket Freeman, The August Agency

    “I dislike opening scenes that you think are real, then the protagonist wakes up. It makes me feel cheated.”
    – Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

    In science fiction

    “A sci-fi novel that spends the first two pages describing the strange landscape.”
    – Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    Prologues

    “I’m not a fan of prologues, preferring to find myself in the midst of a moving plot on page one rather than being kept outside of it, or eased into it.”
    – Michelle Andelman, Regal Literary

    “Most agents hate prologues. Just make the first chapter relevant and well written.”
    – Andrea Brown, Andrea Brown Literary Agency

    “Prologues are usually a lazy way to give back-story chunks to the reader and can be handled with more finesse throughout the story. Damn the prologue, full speed ahead!”
    – Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

    Exposition and description

    “Perhaps my biggest pet peeve with an opening chapter is when an author features too much exposition – when they go beyond what is necessary for simply ‘setting the scene.’ I want to feel as if I’m in the hands of a master storyteller, and starting a story with long, flowery, overly-descriptive sentences (kind of like this one) makes the writer seem amateurish and the story contrived. Of course, an equally jarring beginning can be nearly as off-putting, and I hesitate to read on if I’m feeling disoriented by the fifth page. I enjoy when writers can find a good balance between exposition and mystery. Too much accounting always ruins the mystery of a novel, and the unknown is what propels us to read further.”
    – Peter Miller, PMA Literary and Film Management

    “The [adjective] [adjective] sun rose in the [adjective] [adjective] sky, shedding its [adjective] light across the [adjective] [adjective] [adjective] land.”
    – Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    “I dislike endless ‘laundry list’ character descriptions. For example: ‘She had eyes the color of a summer sky and long blonde hair that fell in ringlets past her shoulders. Her petite nose was the perfect size for her heart-shaped face. Her azure dress — with the empire waist and long, tight sleeves — sported tiny pearl buttons down the bodice. Ivory lace peeked out of the hem in front, blah, blah.’ Who cares! Work it into the story.”
    – Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

    [twl_reusable_block post_id=41455]

    Starting too slowly

    “Characters that are moving around doing little things, but essentially nothing. Washing dishes & thinking, staring out the window & thinking, tying shoes, thinking.”
    – Dan Lazar, Writers House

    “I don’t really like ‘first day of school’ beginnings, ‘from the beginning of time,’ or ‘once upon a time.’ Specifically, I dislike a Chapter One in which nothing happens.”
    – Jessica Regel, Foundry Literary + Media

    In crime fiction

    “Someone squinting into the sunlight with a hangover in a crime novel. Good grief — been done a million times.”
    – Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    In fantasy

    “Cliché openings in fantasy can include an opening scene set in a battle (and my peeve is that I don’t know any of the characters yet so why should I care about this battle) or with a pastoral scene where the protagonist is gathering herbs (I didn’t realize how common this is).”
    – Kristin Nelson, Nelson Literary

    Voice

    “I know this may sound obvious, but too much ‘telling’ vs. ‘showing’ in the first chapter is a definite warning sign for me. The first chapter should present a compelling scene, not a road map for the rest of the book. The goal is to make the reader curious about your characters, fill their heads with questions that must be answered, not fill them in on exactly where, when, who and how.”
    – Emily Sylvan Kim, Prospect Agency

    “I hate reading purple prose – describing something so beautifully that has nothing to do with the actual story.”
    – Cherry Weiner, Cherry Weiner Literary

    “A cheesy hook drives me nuts. They say ‘Open with a hook!’ to grab the reader. That’s true, but there’s a fine line between an intriguing hook and one that’s just silly. An example of a silly hook would be opening with a line of overtly sexual dialogue.”
    – Daniel Lazar, Writers House

    “I don’t like an opening line that’s ‘My name is…,’ introducing the narrator to the reader so blatantly. There are far better ways in Chapter One to establish an instant connection between narrator and reader.”
    – Michelle Andelman, Regal Literary

    “Sometimes a reasonably good writer will create an interesting character and describe him in a compelling way, but then he’ll turn out to be some unimportant bit player.”
    – Ellen Pepus, Signature Literary Agency

    In romance

    “In romance, I can’t stand this scenario: A woman is awakened to find a strange man in her bedroom — and then automatically finds him attractive. I’m sorry, but if I awoke to a strange man in my bedroom, I’d be reaching for a weapon — not admiring the view.”
    – Kristin Nelson, Nelson Literary Agency

    In a Christian novel

    “A rape scene in a Christian novel in the first chapter.”
    – Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    Characters and backstory

    “I don’t like descriptions of the characters where writers make them too perfect. Heroines (and heroes) who are described physically as being virtually unflawed come across as unrelatable and boring. No ‘flowing, wind-swept golden locks’; no ‘eyes as blue as the sky’; no ‘willowy, perfect figures.’ ”
    – Laura Bradford, Bradford Literary Agency

    “Many writers express the character’s backstory before they get to the plot. Good writers will go back and cut that stuff out and get right to the plot. The character’s backstory stays with them — it’s in their DNA.”
    – Adam Chromy, Movable Type Management

    “I’m turned off when a writer feels the need to fill in all the backstory before starting the story; a story that opens on the protagonist’s mental reflection of their situation is a red flag.”
    – Stephany Evans, FinePrint Literary Management

    “One of the biggest problems is the ‘information dump’ in the first few pages, where the author is trying to tell us everything we supposedly need to know to understand the story. Getting to know characters in a story is like getting to know people in real life. You find out their personality and details of their life over time.”
    – Rachelle Gardner, Books & Such Literary

    This column is excerpted from Guide to Literary Agents, from Writer’s Digest Books. We updated this post in August 2019 so it’s more useful and relevant for our readers!

    Photo via  Farknot Architect/ Shutterstock 
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