Category: Writing (Page 9 of 12)

Working With Beta Readers

January 22, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

You’ve finished your manuscript. You’ve read it over countless times. You’re ready to share it. Time to sound the Horn of Gondor and call to the world, “Beta readers, assemble!”

…Or not. This isn’t Lord of the Rings or anything. Getting beta readers is a challenge, yes, but it’s one you can achieve (and you don’t have to be a Gondorian ruler to do it). Here are some steps you might want to try.

1. Find Your Readers

This step is simpler than some might think. Just gather a mix of viewpoints: writers and non-writers, readers and non-readers, genre fans and non-genre fans. Gathering a variety of opinions helps you cast a wide net over any potential issues. And that, of course, is the whole point of the exercise.

For my recently completed novella manuscript (which I hope to have published soon, so stay tuned), I asked pretty much everyone I know. That included my fiancee, my parents, and most of my writer’s group. Don’t stress out over who you ask and don’t ask. Just get as many people as you can.

2. Ask Specific Questions

Offering actionable feedback is already tricky. Offering actionable feedback on an entire manuscript? Now that’s a tall order. So do your beta readers a solid and include guiding questions.

Some examples: Does the protagonist have a satisfying character arc? Does the setting feel authentic? What do you think of the dialogue between characters A and B in chapter four? I find it works best to include these at the end of the manuscript rather than upfront, just so I don’t shape readers’ opinions too much. However, where you place your questions is completely up to you.

Likewise, it’s helpful to mention what you’re not looking for as well. For example, one member of my writer’s group sometimes mentions when he’s not going to make huge structural changes. Feel free to do the same. If you love your story the way it is and aren’t going to change that shocking plot twist, let folks know ahead of time. It’ll save them (and you) the added effort.

3. Collect Your Comments

This one takes a while. I’ve done it on a smaller scale for short stories, though not yet for my novella, since I’m still waiting to hear back from everyone. That said, you don’t necessarily need complete feedback before starting this step. For example, one of my beta readers mentioned that Cadillacs don’t have hubcaps. In my novella, I make specific mention to a Cadillac with a hubcap. I don’t need further input on that one.

Important: You don’t need to make every change your beta readers suggest. Ponder their comments. If you agree with them, then make the changes. If you like things the way they are, kindly ignore those suggestions. Be careful, though. If you love your character’s elongated opening monologue yet every single beta reader hates it, you might have a legitimate problem.

Ultimately, this is your story and you’re putting in the work. Do what you think is best.

4. Make the Changes!

Once you know what changes you’re going to make, make them! This part can take a long time, but it’s certainly worth it. Also, remember that this is one of the last steps before sending your story to editors, agents, or what have you. How cool is that?

5. Pat Yourself (and Your Beta Readers) on the Back

Make sure to thank everyone who offered feedback. Enjoy your sweet new draft!

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

Raising the Stakes

January 15, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

There’s a reason preseason football games are dull, and it’s not just because we’re compelled to watch backups play for three quarters (sorry backups). It’s because they have no stakes.

Now consider the Super Bowl, a game which has the highest stakes in American professional sports. Winning that game means everything. Losing it could be the biggest disappointment in an otherwise outstanding career. (The Super Bowl is also made greater by the weird Doritos commercials, but that’s neither here nor there.)

As writers, we should write stories about the Super Bowl, not the preseason. That’s because stories are often at their best when everything’s on the line. The question is, how do we do it?

Let’s start with The Fellowship of the Ring. The story begins without any stakes (unless you’re particularly concerned about the success of Bilbo’s birthday party). However, we soon discover that Bilbo’s magic ring is actually the One Ring, the most evil artifact in Middle-Earth. Now we understand the stakes: If Sauron gets his Ring back, Middle-Earth is screwed. And when Frodo volunteers to take the Ring, he raises the stakes even further. That’s because at this point, we like Frodo. If he fails, he dies, and then we’re very sad.

Takeaway: Raise the stakes incrementally. Each successive event should provide more to lose and more to gain.

The trick is learning to raise the stakes by showing rather than telling. For example, imagine a character in a book says, “Dude. The stakes have never been greater.” No no no. Too heavy handed.

What’s a good way to suggest stakes rather than outright say them? Kill some characters. The great J.K. Rowling did so zealously in Harry Potter, starting with The Goblet of Fire. When Cedric Diggory died in this book, the stakes were clear: If you mess with Voldemort, you die. Such stakes had never before existed in the series.

It’s difficult, but raising the stakes can breathe new life into our stories. I’m still working on it. I think it helps to ask yourself some questions before sitting down to write. For example: What does my character’s quest mean to him or her? What happens if my character fails? What’s motivating my character to succeed?

We want to show the answers to these questions without telling. If readers have a clear picture of the stakes in their minds, they’ll better understand the gravity of every situation.

So let’s skip the preseason and play for the Super Bowl. Raise those stakes!

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living in New York (upstate, not the city). His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his monthly email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

Setting Writing Resolutions for 2018

January 2, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

Writing

It’s tough getting anywhere without first setting a destination. And with 2018 on the horizon, now’s a great time for us writers to think about where we want to go in the new year. Here are some goal-setting tips that have worked for me. Hope they do the same for you!

Identify the Steps to Your Destination

Define everything between your current location and your ultimate destination. For example, my goal for this year is to publish my first novel. I’ve outlined my steps as follows:

Complete a first draft.
Delude myself into thinking I got everything right on the first try.
Get realistic and re-read the draft. Make tons of edits.
Share the draft with beta readers.
Make more edits.
Repeat step five.
Repeat step five again.
Publish.

I’m on step four with my current manuscript, which is farther than I’ve got with anything. There’s still lots to go, but I’m more confident in my process now that I’ve broken things down.

Try doing the same. No one jumps from step one to step eight without accomplishing everything in between.

Be Realistic With Your Goals

To paraphrase Freddie Mercury, sometimes we want it all, and we want it now. This mentality tends to produce unrealistic goals, which can be damaging to our fragile egos.

For example, let’s say my goal for 2018 is to publish not one novel, but three. I haven’t published any, so what makes me think I can do three in twelve months? Seems unrealistic.

Bottom line: Don’t set goals for yourself that you can’t achieve. This leads to frustration and a false notion that you aren’t doing enough. Set your goals high, but don’t commit to the impossible.

Don’t Get Competitive

Confession: Magic: The Gathering has made me competitive. So when the talented people in my writer’s group do something awesome, I secretly want to do the same.

When setting your writing goals for 2018, be introspective. Commit to your goals based on what you can do, not what others around you are doing. Just because Stephen King publishes two novels a year doesn’t mean you need to do the same. Your writing is about you, and no one else.

I hope these thoughts will help develop your writing goals for 2018. Enjoy your year!

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living in New York (upstate, not the city). His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Five on the Fifth, and Dark Fire Fiction. To read more of Kyle’s work, subscribe to his monthly email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

NaNoWriMo 2017 in Review

December 4, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

Image courtesy of National Novel Writing Month.

It’s December, which means NaNoWriMo 2017 is officially in the books. This is the second time I participated and the first time I hit the 50,000 word mark. I’m glad I did it.

Did you participate in National Novel Writing Month too? If so, you probably learned a lot about yourself as a writer. I know I did. Allow me to share my best takeaways.

You Really Can Do It

Writing an entire novel seems impossible—until you do it. Participating in National Novel Writing Month is proof of that fact.

This year, I enjoyed using the NaNoWriMo website to track my progress. I entered my word count every day to see how many words I wrote each day, and how many more I needed to stay on track for my goal. Super handy and a great way to stay motivated.

You Just Did the Hardest Part

Buy yourself a coke, champ. Filling a few hundred blank pages is a monumental accomplishment.

Of course, we’ve just got manuscripts right now. They’re not novels until we edit them!

Though this is another daunting task, we now have the confidence to do it. Plus, it’s actually pretty fun to paint a shinier coat over the initial strokes. Since we’ve been racing against the clock all month, it’s unlikely that our first draft is ready for readers.

So let’s reorganize and refine those raw concepts. The result is sure to be magnificent.

People Now Think You’re Awesome

I mentioned this in my pre-NaNoWriMo blog post, but I think it bears repeating: people are always impressed when you finish a novel manuscript. I once interviewed for an internship and was asked what accomplishment I was most proud of. My answer: “I finished a manuscript for a novel.” I don’t have conclusive evidence, but I think it went a long way toward getting the internship.

Just because NaNoWriMo’s over for this year doesn’t mean we should stop writing. Keep at it!

Why You Should Try National Novel Writing Month

October 23, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

Image courtesy of National Novel Writing Month.

National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo, as the cool kids say) is a fun time of the year. It’s a time when people come together to create their own versions of one of the greatest forms of art there is: the novel!

Have you tried it before? Are you thinking of trying it? Here are some reasons you’ll want to join National Novel Writing Month yourself.

NaNoWriMo Gives You a Hard Deadline

I explored this idea in an earlier blog post from this month, but it’s still relevant, no matter what. In my opinion, most writers need deadlines.

This might sound harsh. Still, I know a ton of talented people who could generate a ton of great work, if only they hadn’t been working on the same project for three years. I’m not trying to put anyone down for doing so; writing is your time, and you should work on whatever projects you’d like. But hey. Sometimes you’ve got to move on to the next project.

I know I need deadlines. I often review my stories numerous times, making cosmetic (and ultimately low-impact) edits. For example: shuffling commas around. This is probably not a great use of my time, and it’s why I like deadlines. At some point, I can say, “This is as good as it’s going to be.” And then move on.

NaNoWriMo Gives You a Sense of Community

Unless you dig the working in a coffee shop thing, writing might feel a little lonely. And even if you do work at Starbuck’s, baristas are unlikely to chat about your first chapter.

But during National Novel Writing Month, you’ll have an entire community to people to discuss your writing with. NaNoWriMo is one of the rare times when everyone writes crazily hard for an entire month. Yes, that’s write—ahem, sorry. That’s right.

If you’re feeling lonely, head over to the National Novel Writing Month homepage. You can register your novel there, update your progress, and chat with others who are doing the same. Writing novels is hard, so feel free to encourage your friends as they slog through theirs. They’ll do the same for you.

NaNoWriMo Helps You Improve

Being a writer is all about gradual improvement. The first novel you ever write is probably going to be hideous. That’s just how it is. The key is to improve, and continue improving.

NaNoWriMo helps you do that. It gives you an excuse to go ham on your long-form writing skills for a while. Plus, it gives you a short window to do it in. As stated above, it’s kind of like forced practice. And, it’s a better time than any to get those much-needed reps.

I’ve found that the more time I put into my writing, the better it gets. So if you try NaNoWriMo, that’s a whole month of excellent practice. Which will help you improve. Which will help you write something even better next year. Woo hoo!

Bonus: People Will Give You Mad Props

If you tell another human being that you’ve written a book, they’ll be super impressed, especially if they’re not a writer.

Give yourself a deadline. Join a community. Improve your writing. Earn street cred. National Novel Writing Month starts in a little over a week on Wednesday, November 1st. Try it out!

Chunk Writing and Why It Might Work For You

September 25, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

I’m sure you’ve heard the proverb “there are many ways to skin a cat.” I myself find this phrase distasteful, if not downright alarming. However, the general idea is still relevant, especially to writing.

Let’s rephrase it. There are many ways to write a book. (Be nice to cats.)

Part of writing long-form narratives is discovering what works best for us. Learn how others write, but don’t feel the need to copy them.

I’ve found a process that works for me. I didn’t invent it, but so far as I know, I did invent the name for it. I call it chunk writing (patent pending).

No, chunk writing is not treating yourself to chunks of food while writing (though it could be, if that works for you). Chunk writing—or at least the version of it I’d like to describe today—is exactly what it sounds like: writing a story in chunks. They need not be, and often aren’t, in chronological order. Rather, you come up with individual scenes you’re excited about, write them, then string them together.

For Starters

I begin chunk writing with a character. Imagine, for example, a story about a cat named Mittens who’s searching for his favorite litter box. (The main character is a cat because I like cats. Also, we’re still making amends to the cat community for that comment at the beginning.)

It’s often best to start with a character you love. Character should almost always drive plot, so be sure you’re invested in this person (or feline). You could also start with a setting, or a scene, or a line of dialogue. Again, writing is all about what works best for you.

Once you’ve found your starting point, write it down on an index card. Or a word document, a piece of paper, a stone tablet—whatever you dig most. Ask yourself some questions: who is this person? What are they searching for? Familiarize yourself with your character.

Next Steps

Most stories are about a journey. Characters start somewhere, then end up somewhere else. With that thought in mind, write an index card for the beginning of your story and another for the end. The challenge is getting from one point to the other.

For this part, I tend to focus on the scenes I’m most excited to write. This keeps me invested in the story I’m telling.

Let’s jump back to the story of Mittens the crusading cat. I’m hyped to write the scene where Mittens confronts his nemesis the vacuum cleaner. Therefore, this should be one of the first notecards I create. You can fill in the less important (and sometimes less interesting) transitional chapters later.

Elmore Leonard said that you shouldn’t bother writing the parts your readers will skip. While you might want to write them anyway and cut them from the final product, the index card method gives you a preliminary feel for your chapters. If the index card itself feels boring or unimportant, you might not commit time to fleshing it out.

Pulling It All Together

Once I’ve got some index cards I’m excited about, I start writing! At this stage, I don’t worry about revisions. I might go back and switch out an index card or make some mental notes for later. The most important thing is just to get the words down.

While chunk writing might sound like a lot of work upfront, I’ve found that it creates a better final product. For me, it gives direction without the rigidity of an outline.

Everyone’s writing process is different. I hope these tips prove useful, but I doubt the exact same methods will work for you. Just keep writing and discovering. And be nice to cats.

Developing Good Characters in Fiction

September 11, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

Good characters aren’t stick figures. They demand more detail than lines, circles, and basic expressions.

As writers, if we want our characters to go from good to great, we’ve got to do more. It’s our job to fill in the lines, to add shading, texture, subtlety, and nuance.

It’s difficult, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it. Here are a few good places to focus:

Voice

Giving characters distinct voices helps make them feel real. Easier said than done.

One of the best ways to find a character’s voice is writing that character constantly. You probably won’t find a character’s distinct tone the first time you write them. More likely, you’ll write them, revise them, and refine their voice over time.

A great example is George R.R. Martin’s Patchface, a weird jester who speaks in poems and riddles. For example: “Under the sea, smoke rises in bubbles, and flames burn green and blue and black. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.” He’s mysterious, nutty, and a little creepy, with a tone all his own.

Mannerisms

Mannerisms are key to good characters. Sherlock Holmes, for example, wouldn’t be the enduring character he is without this famous line: “Elementary, my dear Watson.”

Like good dialogue, effective mannerisms suggest details about your characters. The above mannerism works because it indicates who Sherlock Holmes is: an intelligent, sophisticated, slightly patronizing fellow.

A mannerism to avoid is something like a character pushing their glasses up all the time. Though it’s a repeatable quirk, it doesn’t suggest anything about our character (other than poor vision).

Backstory

Past experiences shape us all. Characters are no different.

Try to imagine what a character’s life was like before the book begins. Take Jack Torrance, the main character of Stephen King’s classic, The Shining. A huge part of that novel is his past violence toward his son, Danny. Jack constantly tries to atone for it throughout the novel, which shapes his actions, and therefore, him.

One important detail: all this backstory need not appear in your work. Sometimes it’s best to leave it out, since heavy backstory can impede the flow of an otherwise good yarn. Still, as the writer of the story, it’s good information to have in your back pocket, since it might help inform later behaviors.

There’s tons more that goes into building great characters, but these are three of the essentials. Use them to fill in those stick figures.

Promises, Promises: The Assurances We Make to Our Readers

August 21, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

As writers, we make constant promises to our readers. When we describe a gun on the mantlepiece, we promise someone will fire it. When we describe a sputtering engine, we promise the car will break down. When we describe an annoying alien named Jar Jar Binks, we promise he will have some future significance on the plot. Maybe not that last one.

The film Nocturnal Animals is an interesting study in keeping promises. Starring Amy Adams, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Michael Shannon, Animals is a thriller about an L.A. artist whose ex-husband sends her a disturbing manuscript. The film follows two parallel stories: the story of the manuscript, an the story of Amy Adams moping around.

This film has excellent performances, solid direction, good writing. But after my fiancee, our friends, and I watched it the other night, we all agreed that there was still something missing. This film did not keep the promises it had made.

For example, Jake Gyllenhaal has two roles in the film: He plays Edward Sheffield, Amy Adams’s ex-husband, and Tony Hastings, a father and husband within the novel. One actor playing two roles felt like a promise that something more was going on. Was the novel based on Edward Sheffield’s real life experiences? Did Amy Adams have something to do with the events of the novel? Everyone watching the film expected the main story and the plot of the novel to connect in a concrete way.

But they didn’t. When the credits rolled, we looked at each other and said, “Huh?”

Or the scene where Gyllenhaal drives with his wife and daughter. They get into an incident with another motorist, a real nasty dude by the name of Ray (played by Aaron-Taylor Johnson). After being forced off the road, Gyllenhaal’s daughter India (played by Ellie Bamber) marks Ray’s license plate on her phone.

Seems like this would’ve been helpful information during the subsequent investigation. Yet this moment is never referenced again. So far as we know, the cops never checked India’s phone.

Everything we set up in the first twenty minutes of a film or the first third of a book, all of it is a promise. We promise our audience that we’ll knock over the dominos we’ve arranged. If we don’t, the audience feels unsatisfied. And we don’t want that.

I’d encourage you to watch Nocturnal Animals. Despite its flaws, the film demands your attention, beginning to end. Also, I think it teaches an important lesson to writers: keep your promises!

“It Wasn’t Like the Book”

July 31, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

From The Wild Hunt

Trending now: screen adaptations of popular speculative fiction novels. It started with HBO’s Game of Thrones, continued with SyFy’s The Expanse and Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale. It will continue to continue with the upcoming film adaptation of The Dark Tower.

Notice a glaring omission from that list? Me too. I haven’t mentioned Starz’s adaptation of the greatest novel in the English language, American Gods.

Okay, that might be an overstatement. But American Gods really is my favorite book, and as such, I was really excited about the series.

When adaptations are based on popular properties, expectations certainly run high. One thing I’ve noticed: In book to screen adaptations, people use one particular piece of criticism over and over: “It wasn’t like the book.”

I’ve always found that fascinating. The clear implication is that adaptations are best when they’re identical to the book—or pretty darn close. Just ask Harry Potter fans.

However, I’d like to offer a friendly counterpoint to the “it’s not like the book” argument. Sometimes, adaptations are best when they aren’t like the book.

Let’s start with Starz’s American Gods. This series has numerous obvious differences between it and its source material. But I think these differences make the show able to stand on its own.

For one, I love how the show expands upon side characters from the novel. Salim, for example, is a young Muslim man who appears in just one scene of the novel and has no influence on the main plot. In the show, however, he becomes a main character who drives the story forward (literally). Or Mad Sweeney, the gruff leprechaun who appears in just a hand full of scenes in the book. The series Sweeney becomes a main character and one of my absolute favorites. Or Laura Moon, resurrected corpse and former wife of Shadow, the story’s main character. The show devotes an entire episode to her backstory, showing how she and Shadow met. The series Laura has depth that even Laura from the novel did not have.

When I watch a series, I want a new experience. I would’ve been bored if everything played out exactly how it did in the book. I want to see characters I recognize, but I want to see them expanded upon. I want to see a story I recognize, only with different twists. After all, I’m watching American Gods the show, not reading American Gods the novel. If I wanted the same experience as the book, I’d just read the book!

On the other hand, adaptations must tread carefully when deviating from their source material. While the series version of American Gods alters and expands upon some events from the book, they all feel true to Neil Gaiman’s story—due in no small part to his involvement with the series. The challenge for the adapter is to produce a product that feels new while retaining the tastiest ingredients of the original.

When I watch a screen adaptation, I’m looking for a new experience. In that regard, American Gods has been a huge success. The series builds upon the foundation of the novel without simply reproducing the original. It isn’t like the book. And that’s a good thing.

When to Show and When to Tell

July 17, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

Show, don’t tell.

If you’ve ever taken a writing course of any kind, you’ve probably heard that phrase.

If you haven’t, the meaning is pretty simple: don’t come out and tell your readers everything they need to know. Instead, show them examples and specific situations that support what you’re trying to say. Doing so often solidifies your points a little better than straight telling.

I agree with this phrase to a certain extent. However, sometimes it’s best to understand when one should show and when one should tell.

Showing everything and telling nothing can slow a narrative to a crawl. In many instances, simply telling the reader what they need to know keeps the pace moving. For example, you don’t need to show that your main character has red hair. That can come off as silly, with some other character saying, “My, what red hair you have.” It disrupts the flow of your story and makes your characters sound like they’re explaining details to the reader. That’s a big no-no.

Instead, one might write, “Her hair was the same shade of red as fresh autumn leaves.” Here we’re telling the reader through the authorial voice, which feels more natural than one character explaining details about another.

One might also tell rather than show in an effort to avoid confusion. For example, let’s say that there’s a magical substance in your world that allows people to fly. To show this, you have a scene in which a character drinks the drink, and then flies away.

As a reader, I might not make the connection between the drink and the flight. I might think that the drink is just a drink, and that the character can fly at will. Without being explicit about the connection between the two, I might miss it.

Instead, let’s try telling the reader about the drink’s magical properties through narration. Show them how it feels to fly, sure, but tell them the essential information so it doesn’t get lost.

The moment the first drop touched her tongue, she felt herself growing lighter. Another sip and she rose off the ground, rose higher, higher, higher still. She knew none of it would be possible without the drink.

Showing and telling are both tools in the writer’s toolbox. Showing is the most valuable of the two, though it isn’t the only one we should use. When appropriate, we need to tell our readers what they need to know. Doing so could make a huge difference in our writing.