This blog examines the types of stakes you can use to raise tension to its highest levels.
A good place to begin is with some questions:
What happens if the protagonist fails?
What is at stake? Personally? Publicly? Morally?
Why can’t your protagonist just walk away?
Tension is a key element in storytelling. It’s that strain and uncertainty that hooks the reader. What’s making that creaking sound? Will the hero save the world? Can the kidnapped boy escape before the villain returns? Will the heroine ever recover from the spell the witch cast or is she doomed forever?
Putting your characters in peril pulls your reader into the story and makes it interesting. When there’s no tension, stories can feel flat or boring. But how do you add tension to a story?
Part one of this two-part series focused on tips you can use before NaNoWriMo begins. This part looks at what to do during NaNoWriMo to increase your odds of succeeding, though the tips work equally well for writing a first draft any time.
It’s almost November when hundreds of thousands of writers will take on the challenge of writing 50k words in a single month. It’s not a small undertaking, but one that is easier if you have a plan.
Exposition is the part that holds stories together, the bit that introduces information the reader needs to know to understand the plot. It’s the detail that cannot be contained within dialogue or action. Exposition is why a story makes sense.
It’s October and writers everywhere are scrambling to prepare for NaNoWriMo—that one month when dreamers put pen to paper and write. Fifty thousand words in thirty days. It’s a glorious, exhausting plunge into writing that I highly recommend trying.
The trick to NaNoWriMo is to take the motivation you feel during November and experience it throughout the year when it’s back to just you and your words. No fellow writers feeling the pressure. No write-ins or all-nighters with like-minded folks. No common goal for the month.
Context is everything in stories and in life. In the last blog, we explored the relationship between context and complication. This time, we’re going to examine the ways to establish context within your story.
There are two ways in which context affects story—the context of the plot (or event, in the case of nonfiction) and the context of character.
Context is the foundation for everything. It colors perception and fact. It changes minds and tugs on emotion. Without context, a story is nothing more than an anecdote floating in space.
Context provides the background, backstory, setting and structure that holds the details of a story together and gives the reader the framework necessary to understand. Without this, the reader cannot know how to feel.
The first part of this two-part series covered the importance of complications and how to test whether the complications you are are adding are within the framework of your story. In this blog, we’re going to look at the different kinds of complications typically found in stories.
There are many ways to add complications in your story. In a romance novel, it might be rival or obstacle that keeps the two main characters apart. In a mystery, it could be a serial killer or a lack of clues. In SciFi, it might be an alien invasion or a dystopian world that oppresses its citizens. The list is limited only by your imagination.
I don’t know many people who don’t lean in when they hear that phrase. “It’s complicated.” Two words that hold the power to intrigue and pique curiosity. They make us click to find out more. They prompt questions and promise a bevy of details. “It’s complicated” might not be a great way to live, but it sure is a good way to tell a story.
Complications make stories. As writers, we understand this. It’s why we cram complications into our stories and keep shoving until our characters can’t take it anymore…and then we add more.
I have a problem. I love pens. I own boxes of pens that I rarely use or even look at, but am loathe to throw away, minimalism be damned. They’re pens. It’s like asking me to get rid of books—it’s not going to happen even if they threaten to bury me alive. There is something visceral at work here—the potential of so many words yet to be written. They are there, hovering out of sight, waiting on inspiration. Pens hold that potential. The paper awaits their brilliance. All that’s needed is me.
September rolls around and the sales begin and I find myself grabbing pens and tossing them in my cart. I have to collect them all—pens, pads of paper, highlighters, pencils, erasers. They call to me. Loudly.
The thing is there may be a reason for that temptation.
Taste is directly linked to smell. It, like smell, also happens within the body. We have to take in the food in order to taste it. Taste cannot happen passively. It is an active act, a decision. We drink the wine, eat the pizza, and savor the chocolate. As it’s linked to smell, I am going to limit my commentary, but I highly encourage you to include taste in your work.