Category: Writing (Page 9 of 12)

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.

“Inspiration Will Fail You”

June 12, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

I had a professor in college who often said, “Inspiration will fail you.” She was very right about that.

Many authors wait around to be inspired. They wait for the muse to appear with an amazing idea, one that fills the page with vivid prose and vibrant action. And when inspiration fails to appear, those writers remind themselves that tomorrow is another day, and they don’t write anything.

That’s why inspiration will fail you. It’s lazy, it’s inconsiderate, and it doesn’t ever show up when you want it to.

Sure, sometimes we find it. Sometimes our brains spark and whisper, Let’s write this down. But this is certainly not the norm. Far more often, our work hinges on those days when we don’t feel inspired.

Think about it this way: if you only write when you’re inspired and you’re only inspired on good days, how will you ever practice your writing? Writing, like any skill, requires hard work in exchange for improvement. If we don’t put in the hard work until inspiration hands us an idea, then we’re probably not writing frequently enough to improve.

Furthermore, there’s a common assumption that every word one writes must be perfect, or that all writing should, at the very least, be interesting. This notion can preclude some writers from writing anything at all, regardless of how inspired or uninspired they might feel. But not all writing needs to be readable.

Every, every professional writer will tell you that a written work doesn’t even come close to being readable until the second draft, at the earliest. Even then, there might be three, four, five drafts to go before it’s something worth sharing.

If you don’t believe me, maybe you’ll believe some dude named Vladimir Nabokov: “I have rewritten—often several times—every word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.”

If inspiration hasn’t paid you a visit in a while, try writing anything—literally anything—and see what happens. Try a simple sentence of a character doing something: “Lilly looked out the window at the tree in the yard, and she thought to herself, That tree wasn’t there yesterday.”

From here, we can go in all sorts of different directions. Where did the tree come from? How did the tree get there? And who is Lilly? What does she have to do with this tree? What does this tree mean to her? Sometimes, one sentence is all it takes to get things moving.

Of course, you might decide later that that sentence and all your writing thereafter was lame, anyway. Even so, at least you’ve written something down and you’ve gotten your practice for the day. Anything’s better than nothing, even if your anything isn’t particularly good.

Truth is, successful writers are those who write with consistency. That might mean something different for everyone, but what it certainly doesn’t mean is waiting for inspiration.

Trust me. You’re going to be waiting a long, long time.

3 Handy Proofreading Shortcuts

June 5, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

I have a confession to make: I do not like proofreading. It takes time, it’s not especially fun, and I still seem to miss some errors. To quote Billy Joel, it would be nice if I could “Get it Right the First Time.”

But that’s wishful thinking on my part. There may not be any Billy Joel songs about proofreading—but that doesn’t mean it’s not essential. No one wants to read sloppy work.

Fortunately, we can make it easier on ourselves with a few tricks. Here are a few I like:

Read It Aloud to Yourself

Yes, our teachers were right. Reading work aloud forces us to pay closer attention to the words. If you stumble over a sentence, you’ll need to smooth it out. Or, try reading aloud to someone else. They’ll give you tips on the sentences that stick out.

This trick is especially effective with dialogue. You’ll notice details while listening that you won’t notice while reading. For example, I tend to append characters’ dialogue with the phrase “or something.” It’s sort of like my trademark, or something.

I’m not sure why, but my first-draft brain seems to think “or something” makes dialogue come alive. It doesn’t. I read my work aloud to catch them on the second go-around.

Use Your Computer’s Voice Command

Sometimes it helps to have your own work read back to you. This allows you to listen for any weirdness you might’ve missed while reading. However, you won’t always have a human reader handy. In that case, you can use your computer’s voice command.

I do this one all the time. I’m not sure how it would work on a Windows or Linux computer, but on a Mac, you set a keystroke command, then highlight the text you want to hear. Hit your command keys and a pleasant robot voice will read the words to you.

Be warned: this voice is emotionless. Think Ferris Buehler’s professor. It’s about listening for mistakes, not getting a sense of rhythm. (Unless a boring computer voice narrates your story. In which case, please feel free to exclusively use this method.)

Use Online Tools

Hemingway Rewritten is a pretty killer app for this proofreading. It gives you suggestions on how to make your writing more concise.

When you copy and paste a paragraph into Hemingway, the program highlights overlong and strangely-structured sentences (like this one). It also catches passive voice. Plus, Hemingway is totally free. I think we can all appreciate that.

Bonus Tip: Let Commentors Proofread for You

The internet loves finding flaws in everything. Therefore, if you make a mistake, you can be sure someone will notify you in the comments.

Boom. Free proofreading!

In Conclusion

Proofreading is like eating vegetables—it’s not especially fun, but it’s essential for growth. I hope these tips have been helpful (and more palatable than brussel sprouts).

Now please excuse me. I have to proofread this thing.

How the Cosmic Eating Contest Went Awry

May 1, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

(Disclaimer: the title of this blog post has nothing to do with its content. Rather, it’s meant to get you to read the piece. Apologies to those interested in cosmic eating contests.)

I went to an art show last week with my mom. She entered a painting of my aunt’s cat (it was the best one there, in my opinion). Before the winners were announced, we browsed through the other paintings. Each had a title, and one in particular caught my eye.

Its name was: “Waiting for the Slutty Nun.” I needed to see this piece.

No, I don’t have a thing for slutty nuns. Rather, the title was so outrageous, so striking, that I couldn’t not be interested in the painting. I wasn’t the only one; people chattered about the piece before they’d even seen it.

For me, this experience reinforced the idea that a good title is essential for any piece of art. An accurate label isn’t enough. If we want to get people excited about our work before they even see it, a good title is essential.

For writers, the title of a book or story is often the first point of contact between the reader and the work. If they’ve never heard of you or your writing before, you want to make a good first impression. A great title sparks that initial interest—which is exactly what we’re looking for.

Furthermore, a good title can help our work stand out from others. For instance, let’s say you wrote a truly outstanding crime novel. It’s suspenseful, unpredictable, and exciting. Plus, it’s unlike other crime novels because it takes place on the moon. Clearly, this is a pretty unusual story. Yet if you give it a generic title like “The Murder,” you’re not showing how your piece is different from others.

Lastly, great titles are perfectly paired with their stories. I’m thinking of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Imagine if that book had a different title, like The Firemen or The Book Burners. Wouldn’t it just not be the same? No other title quite captures the essence of the story so perfectly (451 degrees Fahrenheit is the temperature at which paper ignites, by the way). Plus, that title would never fit quite right on any other novel. Fahrenheit 451 is the perfect name for that book, and only that book.

For us writers and artists in general, I think agonizing over the perfect title is well worth it. Let’s not settle for the generic—let’s be inventive. Evocative. Bold. Or, if you’re a nun, maybe even a little slutty?