Category: Writing (Page 7 of 12)

For Writers, Distractions Are Essential

March 4, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Writing with Distractions

Distractions. They’re impossible to avoid.

This is a fact I’ve learned to live with—especially for writing time. Whether it’s my cats getting into a fight, a fantasy football injury update, or even getting up for the bathroom, it’s all the same thing: distraction. It happens to the best of us. It happens to all of us.

If you’re a writer, you might fear distraction. You might wish you could sit down and write and not be bothered until you’re done. But distraction really isn’t that bad. In fact, it can actually be helpful. Here’s why:

Imagine you’ve sat down in your favorite chair in front of your computer, your notebook, or whatever it is that you write in or on. Imagine that between your butt and that seat, there’s a layer of super glue. And between the legs of the chair and the floor, there’s more superglue. You’re literally stuck there for the day. (I suppose you could keep pulling until your pants tear, but in this hypothetical situation, you’re wearing your favorite pair of pants. Would you really do that to your favorite pair of pants?)

Doesn’t this sound horrible? I think so. But it’s what we’re doing when we vow never to be distracted—we’re gluing ourselves to our chairs, and therefore stifling our creativity without even knowing it.

Distractions boost creativity because they give us distance from our writing. We need that. When we work on the same project for too long, we eventually get tired of it. For writers, that’s especially bad because it’ll come through in our writing. If we’re bored by our own work, why should anyone else be excited by it?

Furthermore, when we step away from our writing, our unconscious mind works on it for us. That plot hole we just discovered might be filled by the time we return, without us consciously thinking about it. The mind is a powerful thing—especially when given a little rest.

But not too much rest, of course. Distractions must be used sparingly. Unless you’re a dedicated multitasker, it’s probably best not to listen to music while checking your Twitter feed while cooking dinner while also trying to write. Something bad is likely to happen.

So for writers, distractions aren’t that bad. Let’s concentrate on our work, but let’s not be afraid to step away from it every once in a while. You’ll be amazed at the results.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, is available now on Amazon Kindle.

Patreon, Crowdfunding, and the Future of Writers’ Revenue

February 11, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

“Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.”

That’s a line from Pink Floyd’s “Money.” A great song, but certainly not the only one to address its titular subject. In fact, there are tons of songs about money.

It’s an understandable fixation. For songwriters, authors, or any artist, money is a big deal. Most don’t expect to get rich from their work, but many strive to make their art their living. (I know I do!)

As an author, I consider cash in terms of writing. Book sales, advances, and signings have been around for years. But are there newer ways for authors to make money from their work?

Absolutely! The one we’ll discuss today is Patreon. In today’s post, we’ll learn what it is, how it works, and how it can help us start and sustain a writing career. Let’s get to it!

What is Patreon?

Patreon is a website where fans give back to creators they love. Patrons sign up to contribute any amount they’d like, either in onetime or monthly donations. In return, creators usually offer fans exclusive content depending on how much they’ve donated. One dollar each month might not sound like much, but with enough patrons, the revenue adds up.

When most people hear about Patreon, their first reaction is usually something like this: Really? Yes, really! If people like what you create, they’ll donate so you can create more. Plus, giving them extra for their contributions can’t hurt.

Why Should You Try It?

Think of all your favorite services: Netflix, Hulu, HBO, The New York Times. They’re all based on subscriptions. You pay a little each month to access something you love.

Patreon operates on the same principle. Patrons are essentially subscribing to your monthly rewards, contributing as much as they feel comfortable with. That’s the nice thing about the service—you can pay anything, even just a dollar a month.

Imagery and Headline

Start with the headline.

Patreon 1

Every profile has a name, then the phrase “is creating” or “are creating” (your choice), followed by whatever it is you’re creating. This is usually just one or two words. I was originally going to write “Stories” for mine, but I wrote “Outlandish Stories” because I thought it would stand out more. Also, I like the word “Outlandish.”

You’ll also want a picture. If you’ve read my book, the above image will look familiar. Try to find one where you’re smiling. And don’t use a blurry Facebook profile pic, please.

You’ll also need a cover image, which might be a bit trickier. Many Patreon authors create cover images out of their book covers, but if you’re like me and you’ve only published one book so far, that might not be an option. I used a free sharing photo website called Unsplash for mine.

My stack of books is perhaps not the most striking thing in the world, but it’s a professional image that clearly shows what I’m creating. That’s the cover image’s only job: show people what you’re creating at a glance. If you’re an author and your cover image is, say, a field of cows, you might confuse your patrons.

The Overview

This is the pitch. Introduce yourself, discuss your rewards, and encourage patrons to contribute to your cause.

Most authors I’ve seen use headings to break up their text, because these Overviews can (and probably should) get pretty lengthy. For many authors who already have huge established fan bases, kicking off with a simple “This is me” statement works just fine. For example, here’s the first line of author Tobias Buckell’s Patreon page:

Or author Saladin Ahmed:

Patreon 3

Or author N.K. Jemisin:

Patreon 4

(Note: Jemisin’s Patreon page is now closed, so please look to the part after the italics.)

Though my cats might think I’m famous, I’m not. Therefore, I opted for an intro about my stories instead of one about myself.

Patreon 5

Write something that will convince prospective patrons to keep reading. Fair warning: That can be harder than it sounds. And it can be even harder if you haven’t written the whole overview yet. So feel free to start elsewhere. Flesh out your ideas. Once you have the entire thing written, revisit that first paragraph.

Next, tell your fans why you chose Patreon. Almost every creator on the site does it. “Because I want money” is not enough. Everybody wants money!

For me (and for most other writers), Patreon is a step toward a full-time writing income. Even if you write a book a year, those spurts of income likely aren’t enough to last you all 12 months. Patreon presents a unique opportunity for writers because you can build a consistent income each month. For some, that’s all we need.

Now that patrons know who you are and why you need their help, tell them about your work. What have you written and what are you writing? Again, if you’re like me and you don’t yet have much published work, elaborate on all the writing you will do with enough donations.

Throughout the Overview, include your personality. I tried to do that in numerous places. For example, I mentioned authors whose work has influenced my own. I also threw in a picture of my cats. I think people are more likely to contribute to you if you seem like a likeable person. And I bet you are a likeable person. Show it!

Finally, our moms taught us the value of saying “thank you.” I believe that goes double on Patreon. Patrons make our writing possible, so we really can’t say thanks enough.

The Tiers

This is, in my opinion, the hardest part of the whole process. Creating rewards and adequately charging for them is challenging. Hell, some companies hire other companies just to do their pricing for them. It’s a pain!

Look to other authors’ Patreon pages and see how they do it. My donation tiers are very similar to those of the authors I mentioned above. If it works for them, why change it?

Patreon 6

Almost all writers offer a huge range of donation. Always start at $1 and provide good value there. Most writers give their patrons a new short story each month for that price. Then scale up to a massive tier—one you wouldn’t believe anyone would ever contribute to. Doing so makes your work appear valuable while also making your lower-priced tiers appear affordable. And there’s always the chance a patron will like you enough to join that tier. You never know!

Setting a Goal

This is a fun section where all your patrons can work together. The creator sets a goal of total patrons or total revenue. If the goal is met by a certain date, all patrons get a sweet prize.

I’ve set a goal of getting 50 patrons by the end of 2019. If we reach it, every patron receives a terrible short story I wrote a long time ago. So bad it’s good. Or at least I think so…

Try Patreon!

I hope this post was helpful. If you’ve always wanted to make a living from your writing, consider using Patreon. And if you become one of my first patrons, I’ll be eternally grateful.

Grab that cash and make your stash, authors. Use it to write more. The world needs your work!

Is Setting the Least Important Element of Fiction?

January 21, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Setting

Hey, reader. Check out this Twitter poll:

An evil interdimensional being appears and demands to eat one essential element of fiction writing. Which are you offering up?
— ProWritingAid (@ProWritingAid) October 15, 2018

I work for this company. We’re called ProWritingAid and we make a super-powered editing app that helps writers improve at writing. It’s a great company, and I’m not just saying that because I work there.

Anyway, we run Twitter polls such as these every week or so. I was struck by the results of this one. Sure, we do have a limited sample size here (just 20 votes), but we still see an overwhelming majority. Many writers, it seems, prioritize character and plot over setting.

Based on my own work and the work of others, this sentiment feels accurate. Anecdotally speaking, many writers care most about Who and What—less so about Where.

So does that make setting the least important component of fiction? Maybe. But does that make it inessential? Hardly. Here’s why you can’t allow any interdimensional beings to eat your setting.

Setting Amplifies Character and Plot

In the aforementioned Twitter pole, let’s say you voted for character or plot. Good vote, voter—I probably would’ve done the same. But for most stories, setting has a profound influence on the other two elements.

I experienced this truth first-hand when writing my novel Gerald Barkley Rocks. I initially imagined the story taking place in Los Angeles, California. Julian Strange, whose death ignites the plot, is a washed-up rock-and-roll singer. His neighbor, Carmen Fowler, is a retired actress. And a significant portion of the story concerns themes of fame. Los Angeles seemed like the perfect setting.

Yet in the early drafts, I thought I might experiment with a different city. My wife and I lived in Colorado at the time, so I tried moving my story to Denver. I submitted these new chapters to my writers’ group, and the flaws were obvious: several people thought my book just wasn’t the same if it took place anywhere but Los Angeles. I ended up agreeing.

Setting supports both characters and plot. My characters are L.A. characters. My plot is an L.A. plot. If an interdimensional being devoured my setting, it wouldn’t be the same story.

Are There Exceptions?

Definitely. For example, I recently read Salman Rushdie’s Two Years, Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights. Yes, this book has a setting. But I’d say it takes a backseat to what happens, and who makes it happen.

This isn’t the most scientific analysis, but I must admit, I don’t remember where this story takes place. I think New York City is mentioned and the beginning takes place in the ancient Middle East, but otherwise the setting doesn’t factor into the story much at all.

The same cannot be said of the book’s characters or plot. I vividly remember characters like Ibn Rushid, Dunia, and Jimmy Kapoor. I can recall pretty much everything that happens, too. Again, not scientific, but I think it’s telling. Thin settings can be easily excused by strong characters and conflicts.

Does That Make Setting the Least Important Element of Fiction?

I think we should treat this question more as a thought experiment and less as a serious consideration. Asking which element of fiction is least important is like asking which essential bodily function is least important; if we lose any of them, we lose everything.

Still, I think this pole highlights an important lesson for all writers: don’t undervalue setting. Yes, some writers, like Salman Rushdie, can write great books with fuzzy settings. For the rest of us, setting is just as essential as ever.

See ya, evil interdimensional being. We’re keeping our setting!

Is an Author’s Intent Irrelevant?

January 14, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Author Intent

“I just thought he was insane.”

This is one reader’s take on the titular protagonist of my novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks. I must admit, it makes sense. After all, my protagonist interacts with a character no one else can see. And, without giving too much away, he has some pretty odd experiences, ones that can’t be confirmed by any other character. So I can see why readers might think it’s all in his head rather than actually happening. The thing is, that wasn’t my intention.

Is this a problem? If readers extract meaning that an author doesn’t intend, has the author messed up? And here’s the central question: Does an author’s intent even matter?

The Writer’s Fear

I’m reading Philip Pullman’s Daemon Voices right now and I think he addresses this topic astutely. In the essay “Intention,” Pullman describes the phenomenon like this:

“What seems to be going on here is the feeling that reading is a sort of test, which the reader passes or fails according to how closely the interpretation matches the one the author intended.”

This works the other way around, too. As writers, sometimes we want our readers interpretations to match our intent. If they differ, we might fear our writing failed a test of clarity. That’s how I felt when I first received the “I thought he was insane” feedback.

Yet Pullman addresses this topic again later in the book.

“Readers may interpret my work in any way they please…Believing as I do in the democracy of reading, I don’t like the sort of totalitarian silence that descends when there is one authoritative reading of any text.”

So is Phil right? Should I celebrate this alternative reading rather than fear it?

Yes, Phil’s Right

An author doesn’t decide what’s true. Rather, truth varies depending on who’s reading it. I didn’t intend for my protagonist to hallucinate anything, but, for any given reader, that doesn’t mean he didn’t.

Plus, unintended results are often some of the best. Take any B-movie as an example. If creator intent was absolute, these would just be bad movies. Yet if audiences choose to interpret them as comedies, they become far more enjoyable.

Take, for example, Troll 2. It’s a film about a family that moves to a small American town called Nilbog, (yes, that’s “goblin” spelled backwards). They’re terrorized by the townsfolk who turn out to be goblins disguised as humans. Yes, that’s right. A film called Troll 2 is actually about goblins.

That’s funny on its own—not that the filmmakers intended it. Rather, they named the film Troll 2 in order to mislead potential moviegoers into thinking the film was a sequel to a different (and unrelated) horror film. And that’s only the beginning. There’s also an omnipotent grandpa, a make-out scene in which popcorn is thrown onto the participants from off camera, and this famously awful line: “You can’t piss on hospitality! I won’t allow it!” All unintentional, and better for it.

I hope Gerald Barkley Rocks isn’t the Troll 2 of books, but you get the idea. All art is evaluated by interpretation. The artist presents the pieces. The reader, viewer, or listener arranges those pieces into whatever shape they like.

Conclusion

Feel free to read Gerald Barkley Rocks and let me know your interpretation. Because my intent is irrelevant. Thanks, Phil Pullman.

I Am Your Father: Making Similarities Work in Fiction

January 7, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

From Wikipedia

When Darth Vader revealed he was Luke Skywalker’s father in Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, people lost it. It’s widely considered one of the best plot twists in film history, and for good reason. Who would’ve guessed that the protagonist was the antagonist’s son all along?

Of course, George Lucas isn’t the only person ever to use this twist. In fact, Neil Gaiman (my favorite author) uses it in his 2001 novel American Gods (my favorite book). If you haven’t read it or don’t want to be spoiled for the show, turn back now.

Still here? Okay, cool. The book’s bad guy, Mr. Wednesday, is the father of Shadow, the book’s good guy. Boom!

Now here’s my question. How does Neil Gaiman repeat such a classic plot element without having readers roll their eyes? How does he take the “I am your father” moment and make it his own? Let’s investigate.

The Buildup

In Star Wars and American Gods, the identities of Luke and Shadow’s fathers carry differing importance. In Star Wars, for instance, when Obi Wan Kenobi tells Luke that his father was a jedi, it’s a huge contributing factor toward him leaving home. He takes his father’s lightsaber, he joins his father’s order, and it’s implied that he wants to avenge his father’s death. That’s because at this point in the story, he believes Darth Vader killed his father.

In American Gods, Shadow couldn’t care less about the identity of his father. We just know that he never met his dad. That’s it. No hints at who dad was, what he did, or where he went. The man’s identity is so vague that I found myself forgetting his existence entirely. Only near the end does it become relevant.

Here we see how this differing importance sets these plot elements apart from one another. If Shadow revered his dad and accepted his quest to follow in his footsteps, these elements might feel too similar. Since he doesn’t, the respective “I am your father” moments feel distinct.

The Reveal

In Star Wars, the reveal of Darth Vader’s true identity is intensely dramatic. It’s enough to make Luke sob and then hurl himself down a space shaft. And for audiences everywhere, it’s a shock that’s still remembered today. Just check out the memes that are still being created:

In American Gods, the revelation of the antagonist being the protagonist’s father is far more understated. When he has a vision of his mother dancing with his father, his reaction to dad’s true identity isn’t nearly so dramatic as Luke’s. Here’s the passage:

“Shadow found that he was completely unsurprised when he recognized the man who dances with [his mother]. He had not changed that much in thirty-three years.”

To a certain extent, this is just Shadow. Due to his time in prison, he’s learned to suppress his emotion. Yet this muted response also differentiates the revelation from that of Star Wars. Shadow doesn’t deny the truth. Instead, he accepts it. In fact, he already suspected it.

The Payoff

Once we know who these characters’ fathers really are, the ramifications on the subsequent story are much different. At the end of Empire Strikes Back, for instance, Luke is in disbelief over what he’s learned. Then, in the following film, his goal is no longer to defeat Vader. Instead, he seeks to redeem him.

In American Gods, Shadow’s father’s identity is more thematic than anything else. Shadow finds out who Mr. Wednesday is roughly around the same time he discovers Wednesday’s plot to sacrifice a bunch of gods to himself, thereby resurrecting himself. (Simple plan, right?) There’s no moment of, “Gee, I’d better redeem my dad.” In fact, Wednesday’s true identity doesn’t change Shadow’s plan in any way. He still stops the other gods from going to war, which thwarts dear dad’s plan. So unlike Luke Skywalker, Shadow wants to defeat his father even after discovering his true identity.

In Conclusion

Writers tend to avoid using twists they’ve seen in other works. Sometimes we fear that unless our plots are unique, we won’t be taken seriously as artists. That’s not the case! Rather, it’s perfectly fine to reuse a plot element, so long as we make it our own. I think the above example illustrates that point perfectly.

Now get out there and write!

Staying Shameless When Self Promoting

November 5, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

For writers, self promotion is like visiting the doctor: necessary, but often uncomfortable.

Whether online or in person, self promotion can feel a little icky sometimes. So, when it comes down to tooting our own horns, here are some tips on how to toot without feeling guilty.

For starters, remember that everyone, even non-writers, must promote themselves now and then. Take the job interview, for instance. We show up with a piece of paper listing our GPA, accomplishments, and past employment. Then we talk about ourselves for an hour. Promoting our writing is no different, and no less essential.

Even if we don’t like promoting ourselves, I’m sure we all like the work we promote. Why else would we spend so much time on it? We write because we love what we write, plain and simple. We should never feel bad about sharing that love with others.

A great way to overcome the initial discomfort of self promotion is to pretend you’re a publicist for another writer. Pretend that your favorite author wrote your book and that you’re telling a friend why you love it. What makes it special? What makes it unlike other books? I’m sure you’ve done this before with someone else’s book, so try it with your own.

A truism of writing applies to self promotion as well: show, don’t tell. In the above picture, my cat Luna orders you to buy her book. This form of self promotion is a tad aggressive. I’ve seen a lot of writers do it, both online and in person. I’ve done it myself a few times. Trust me—it doesn’t fly. Luna might instead share her published work on her website (see how shameless I was there?). If visitors like what they see, they’ll be far more likely to do as she says and buy her book.

Yes, self promotion feels weird. But we need to do it. So instead of feeling weird about it, let’s embrace it. Let’s have fun with it. It’s called shameless self promotion for a reason.

Ignoring the Internal Critic

September 24, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

My Internal Critic is a jerk. So is is yours.

Everyone’s Internal Critic says the same things in different ways. It tells us we’re not good enough, that we shouldn’t publish our work, that other writers are better. Internal Critics are those voices in our heads that remark, “I don’t think I would’ve used that adverb.” I’m going to date myself here, but I imagine the Internal Critic as a mini Simon Cowell.

Yes, the Internal Critic can be a jerk. And the truth is, you’ll never quite silence it. However, I believe you can learn to listen to it less. Here are several ways to do it.

Take a Break

Internal Critics love criticizing current projects. Nostalgia usually prevents them from lambasting older projects; anticipation does the same for future projects.

Therefore, guard your current project by making it a past project. Take a break. Let your Internal Critic forget about the mistakes of the past. The Internal Critic is usually an opportunist—it likes going after whatever’s closest. Put down your project, then come back to it.

But make sure you come back to it! Don’t let your Internal Critic talk you out of your work. When you return, you’ll probably be more objective than you were before. There will likely still be problems, yes, but you’ll also spot delightful bits you hadn’t noticed before. That sharp line of dialogue will jump off the page. That sick description will spark your imagination. It will impress even the Internal Critic. So don’t miss this opportunity!

Remind Yourself of the Next Draft

Hey, Internal Critic. There is such a thing as a second draft. In fact, the first draft is always bad. So don’t criticize it so harshly.

Reiterate this to yourself (and your Internal Critic). The first draft is bad, yes, but it’s also just the beginning. Criticizing a first draft is like criticizing a team at their first practice. Of course it’s going to be bad. Of course there will be mistakes. Expecting immediate perfection isn’t just unfair—it’s downright unrealistic!

Improvement is an iterative process. If your Internal Critic forgets that, remind it.

Listen (A Little)

It might sound odd, but sometimes it’s beneficial to take the Internal Critic’s advice—at least at the beginning. For example, imagine you’re writing a novel with multiple point of view characters. Four of them work great, but the fifth feels increasingly unnecessary to the plot. Cue the Internal Critic.

“Hey buddy. IC here. Listen, I’ve been wondering. That fifth POV character. Umm…why?”

Despite the obnoxious tone, you might try considering the Internal Critic’s critique. Treat it like you would any member of your writer’s group. If it’s helpful advice, use it. If it’s just the Critic being critical, discard it.

A Few Exercises to Try Against Your Inner Critic

When you feel your Inner Critic pushing you, push back. Evaluate all the reasons your Inner Critic is wrong.
Hey Internal Critics! Just because you aren’t the best doesn’t mean you’re not good. That would be like saying Scottie Pippen is bad at basketball because Michael Jordan’s better. Pippen’s still one of the all-time greats, even if he’s not the greatest. So, even if you aren’t as good a writer as Margaret Atwood or Kurt Vonnegut, that doesn’t mean you aren’t a good writer. And if you work hard enough, maybe someday you’ll become better than both.
If your Inner Critic constantly reminds you how hard writing is, say, “Yeah. You’re right!” Writing is hard. Writing is very hard. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. In truth, it’s a good thing. Because most of the best things in life require dedication. Easy tasks are forgettable. Difficult ones are meaningful.
Remind yourself that everyone has an Inner Critic, and that everyone’s Inner Critic is hardest on themselves.

Let’s ignore those Internal Critics as much as possible. Who needs ’em, anyway?

The Power of Revision

September 17, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

Here’s a fact of fiction writing: nobody gets it right on the first try.

You’ve probably heard the phrase “great books aren’t written—they’re rewritten.” I totally buy this. It’s the power of revision. It’s chiseling a block of formless stone into a statue. I found this out first-hand with a recent project.

A few years ago, I wrote a manuscript entitled Who the Hell is Julian Strange? It was a novel about a famous rock star, Julian Strange, who got whacked. The rest of the story was about all that happened in the wake of his murder. The novel’s ensemble cast featured a journalist writing Strange’s biography, Strange’s former band mate, Strange’s biggest fan (also kind of a stalker), and a few others. One of those others was a mopey Los Angeles police detective named Gerald Barkley.

For a while, Who the Hell is Julian Strange? felt like an Infinity Draft (more info on what that means here). I started and restarted and found nothing interesting enough to keep me going. Finally, I shelved the project.

Months passed. Eventually, it was my turn to submit to my biweekly writer’s group meeting. I went delving through my files and found a chapter about a guy named Gerald Barkley.

I’d almost forgotten about this piece. One line in particular jumped out at me:

“Detective Barkley sipped at his seltzer. He wondered if anyone would make a toast to him when he died.

Seemed unlikely.”

I’m not sure what it was about this sentence that I liked so much, but I wanted to learn more about Gerald Barkley. Why does he care about his death? Why does he have such a low opinion of himself? Where is he? (Also, I liked that he likes seltzer. I like seltzer.)

I revised my entire draft, this time focusing on Gerald Barkley instead of Julian Strange. Since the former is more relatable than the latter, I found the essential conflict worked much better. The characters felt natural and authentic rather than cartoonish and forced. When I finished my new draft, I renamed it Gerald Barkley Rocks.

But choosing a new focal character wasn’t all I did. I revised. I revised for about eight months before I shared with family and friends. I spent even more time afterward refining Barkley’s story. I asked myself, “Does this book stink?” It went through many iterations, but finally, I got my story to a place I like. Gerald Barkley Rocks is not yet published, but it will be soon. I’ll let you know more details when I have them.

Anyway, my point with this post is simple: revision is essential. The first draft is never, ever good enough. Characters change, plotlines shift, and your work decides its own path. Keep on revising until you discover the story you were meant to tell. You’ll dig the results.

Be Concise

August 20, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

Ever heard the phrase “brevity is the soul of wit”? Though William Shakespeare coined it four centuries ago, this proverb remains essential for writers.

Here’s a less fancy way of saying it: one can often do more by saying less. Here are some ways to do that with your writing.

Cut Redundant Actions

I tend to overpack my sentences with actions that don’t contribute much. For example, here’s an excerpt from a piece I’m working on now:

“‘Oh, yeah, absolutely.’ Watson smiled, nodded, and flashed her a thumbs up. ‘You’re the boss.'”

In this sentence, Watson performs three actions that express one idea: He approves of the plan. Three verbs make the sentence a tad jagged, not to mention longer than necessary. Let’s revise this to one action:

“‘Oh, yeah, absolutely.’ Watson smiled. ‘You’re the boss.'”

It’s a minor edit, but it makes a big difference.

Limit “Verb to Verb” Sentence Constructions

How many times have you heard a sentence like this: “She started to rise from the couch”? Or, “He began to collect all fifty two discarded cards”?

I’ve noticed this sentence structure in other people’s writing, as well as my own. It’s fine for emails, but otherwise clunky. But this mistake, like the last, has a simple solution: cut “started to” and “began to.” Get ’em outta here!

Of course, things get trickier when specifying timing. For example: “She started to rise from the couch when she heard a noise from the other room.” If it’s imperative to describe that timing, go for it. I’d just remember that such sentences are distracting and should be streamlined whenever possible.

Excise Adverbs!

Adverbs are words that modify verbs, usually ending in -ly. Quickly, widely, really, strongly, quietly, strangely. We all use them. While they shouldn’t be completely avoided (there’s one right there!), they’re best kept to a minimum.

Adverbs are like fat on a steak; They add weight to the cut, but they don’t have much nutritional value by themselves. Overusing adverbs slows a reader’s progress without adding anything nutritional.

For example, try this sentence, “Soley happily leapt after the bee as it carelessly flew on the softly-blowing breeze.”

This is one fatty sentence. Let’s trim it down a bit.

“Soley sprang after the bee as it glided on the summer breeze.”

The second sentence works far better than the first. The verb “sprang” hints at the happiness we mentioned in the original version, but here we get the same meaning from one word. The verb “glided” conjures up ease and grace. The summer breeze adds context to the scene while also providing subtle sensory details. This sentence now reads much more smoothly (whoops, sorry).

Like fat, adverbs are acceptable and even healthy in moderation. If you feel a particular sentence requires an adverb, use it. (Using them ironically is also encouraged.)

Since brevity is the theme of this post, I’ll keep my conclusion short. Let’s all write less!

Why You Should Write What You Don’t Know

July 9, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

Write what you know.

You’ve probably heard that phrase before. It’s pretty common advice for writers, especially those who are just getting started, and I suppose it’s not bad. Starting somewhere familiar makes a lot of sense.

That being said, oftentimes you’ll do some of your best writing when you write what you don’t know.

In my case, if I only wrote what I knew, I’d have a pretty limited repertoire. All my characters would have roughly the same life experiences, the same interests, the same opinions. If I only wrote what I knew, I might be able to write a book. If that.

Furthermore, what if I decided to write a story in which the world is entirely composed of cats? If I only wrote what I know, I wouldn’t even be able to write this story, because there’s no such thing as Catworld. (Though there totally should be.)

Okay, I realize I’m being a bit literal here, but I think the point is valid: there are going to be a lot of parts of your writing which you don’t know all that well. And that’s a good thing!

Now that’s not to say that you shouldn’t do any research. No matter what your story is about, you should research it. In the above example, for example, I could research feline behavior, speak to a vet, or pretend to be a cat for a few hours. This research will give me some good details for my story.

Research helps pretty much every book, even those you might not guess. Take The Lord of the Rings trilogy, for example. Though Middle-Earth is an alternate world, it’s heavily based in legends and mythology. Creatures like trolls, elves, dwarves, goblins—these have all appeared in various mythologies over the course of human history. In fact, few of Tolkien’s creatures are completely original.

Still, before Tolkien wrote The Hobbit, none of this territory had been thoroughly explored in literature. Therefore, if Tolkien had only written what he knew, would he ever have tried creating his own languages? What about his fictional histories? If he had only written what he knew, how would he come up with everyone’s favorite weirdo, Tom Bombadil?

If you’re familiar with everything you write, then you might not be pushing yourself enough. Try writing on subjects you know nothing about. Try exploring territory which you’ve never seen before. This will help you progress as a writer, and it will make things feel a little more fresh.

This idea extends beyond genre, even. If you write primarily fantasy, try writing some creative nonfiction. Try writing a straight romance (no vampires, please and thank you). Try writing in a time period you know little about.

Always do your research, but do your best to write about what you don’t know. See what happens!