In Part I of this series, we examined some ways to dig deeper into your characters’ motivation and figure out their stakes in the plot. Now let’s go even farther by asking your characters:
The only thing that matters in fiction is why. Why does what is happening matter to the protagonist and other characters? Why should we care? It’s not enough for things to happen to your characters. You have to know what it means to each of them and how it affects their lives. This means you need to know what makes your characters tick. Why they make the choices they do. Why they react the way they do. Why they don’t just walk away.
In the last blog, we discussed what first lines of stories need to include. Now we’ll look at ways you can improve your opening lines.
First sentences are paramount to stories. They are the first impression. The hook by which readers are tempted to continue on instead of tossing the book back on the shelf so they can keep looking. They are a portal to the story itself.
In part one of this series, we talked about how and why film editor Walter Murch’s famous Rule of Six works equally well for novelists. Now let’s break down each of the six rules:
The Rule of Six is a list of the six most important types of cuts a film editor should make, according to famed film editor Walter Murch in his book, In the Blink of an Eye. Though written for film editors, his suggestions make sense for novelists too.
Writing should inspire, motivate, educate, illuminate, inform, persuade, and engage. To do this, it has to rise above the basics and become something more.
In the first part in this series, we explored two introductions used in the television series The West Wing as an example of how to elevate writing from the barely functional to an art. Now let’s break down some practical steps you can take to elevate your writing.
Ten ways to improve your writing:
The term “writing” covers a wide range of acts. There is the Great American Novel and direct mail flyers. Ad copy and speeches. Screenplays and novels. Radio scripts and web content. Being able to put words on a page takes many forms, not all of them lofty or noble. Sometimes all you need is a well-crafted email or text. That is the wonder of writing and human communication. It comes in all forms.
No, the problem is not with the form writing takes, but with the mindset many writers have when faced with what many consider “pedestrian” work. Their minds become pedestrian, bland, complacent, and it doesn’t have to be that way. You can elevate your writing no matter what form it takes, whether it’s the opening of your manuscript or a simple introduction. Here’s an example of what I mean.
A story’s tension comes from its rhythm, timing, and pacing, which is what keeps a reader glued to the page and an audience in their seats. Let’s break down why that is.
Pacing is often confused with timing, and understandably so. They do overlap in some ways. But while timing is the placement of a scene within the overall story, as we learned in last week’s blog, pacing deals with the modulation of the overall work. In other words, pacing is the speed at which the story unfolds.
Everyone knows that comedy is all about timing. A joke succeeds when the punch line is delivered at just the right moment. As they say, “Timing is everything.” But what does that mean in terms of writing a novel or longer form of storytelling? How do you manage timing? And how does it differ from duration and pacing? How does it influence tension? Those are the questions we are going to tackle in this short series.
A story hinges on the inciting incident—the event that pushes a protagonist outside of her status quo and forces her to move in a new direction. The inciting incident presents a choice: to stay and deal with the new circumstances or to move beyond what’s comfortable to go after what the protagonist really wants, facing new challenges along the way. It really isn’t a choice since it wouldn’t be much of a story if the protagonist stayed where she was. Thus, the inciting incident starts the journey.