Scenes make up stories. They are the building blocks that form narrative. As writers, we stack scenes together to tell a particular tale. How we write, build, and stack those scenes matters.
In the last blog we defined throughlines, loglines and taglines. Now let’s look closer at throughlines—the most important of the three.
The throughline is a single thread that winds through your story and off which everything else hangs. It drives the writing and organizes the plot, action and character development. The throughline is the main motivation driving the protagonist toward the ending. It is what holds your story together so it can be a story instead of a random collection of anecdotes and scenes. A good throughline is how you propel your story forward in a way that makes sense.
The last blog outlined nine signs of amateur writing and how to fix them. This blog continues that list with another nine ways new writers show their inexperience.
Here is the second set of nine signs of amateur writers and how to fix them:
Writing is a skill. It takes time to master. That doesn’t mean you can’t earn a living writing before you achieve an expert level, but you will need to refine your skills to have a career.
Here are 9 signs of amateur writing and how to avoid them:
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.
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.
When is good writing good writing? Is it a sentence or paragraph that hooks the reader? It is laud the ability to craft a gorgeous sentence no matter what? Or does noticing that great passage distract from the reading experience?
I think we can all agree there are books that amaze us with their prose and those that challenge us with their awkward phrasing and clunky pacing. It’s a question of quality. We know what works and what doesn’t on a visceral level. But how do we define it? And, more importantly, how do we make sure we’re on the right side of that line with our writing?
There’s a writing axiom that states everyone should learn the rules before they break them. I happen to agree with this rule. But I also believe in breaking rules. It’s a tenuous position for a blogger who focuses on how to write. Today’s blog is about what I truly believe.
Trust your instincts.
The past few blogs we’ve focused on complications, tension and raising the stakes. Now we’re going to look at how that plays out by breaking down a fairy tale. We’ll begin with Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
The story typically starts out with the bears discovering their porridge is too hot and deciding to go for a walk, leaving their home unoccupied. I say typically starts out because there are many versions of this tale, each with its own quirks and variances. But let’s work with this opening as the hook. Talking bears who live in a house and eat porridge. Check. I want to read that.