Tag: novel writing

Why Don’t They Call the Cops? – Answering Your Readers’ Questions Before They Ask Them

November 12, 2018 / Kyle A. Massa

My wife is currently reading a frustrating book (I won’t tell you the title). She’s got several grievances, such as one character’s annoying name and another character’s dopey behavior. But one issue stands above the rest. My wife asks:

“Why don’t they call the cops?”

Now that’s an important question, especially for writers. When the going gets tough, why don’t your main characters call the cops?

As writers, we must constantly ask ourselves questions like these, because our readers certainly will. If we never anticipate the questions that might arise, readers will end up feeling frustrated, like my wife does now.

How can we answer our readers’ questions before they’re asked? Let’s get into it.

1. Put Yourself in Your Characters’ Shoes

Let’s say your protagonist is being stalked by someone outside the house who’s trying to break in. Why doesn’t he or she call the cops? If you can’t answer this question, you can’t proceed with your story.

So put yourself in your character’s shoes. Say to yourself, “Okay self. Let’s say that as you’re writing this, you hear someone breaking in downstairs. What do you do?” Calling the cops is probably on your shortlist. Finding a weapon to defend yourself with is another solid tactic. Shouting for help or escaping out the backdoor works, too.

The final decision will vary depending on the character making it. However, you must at least provide plausible evidence as to why your character does or does not do something. Maybe they don’t call the cops because you’ve established that they’re distrustful of the police. Maybe they don’t arm themselves because they’re just a scared little kid.

Take a moment to show answers to logical questions. If you’ve done that, you can proceed with your story.

2. Share Your Work with Beta Readers

It’s okay if you don’t speak Greek. Beta readers are just the kind people who give you their first impressions on your works-in-progress. If they wonder why your main character didn’t call the cops, they’ll let you know.

The best beta readers tell you what questions they have as they read your work. For example, they might say, “I didn’t understand why Luna wouldn’t tell Solara about the mouse in the basement.” As the writer, you probably know the answer. Yet a beta reader might show that the answer isn’t clear enough. In this example, perhaps you go back and explicitly state Solara’s reasoning: Luna had cried wolf—or in this case, mouse—too many times already. She knew Solara would never believe her.

Beta readers need not be anyone fancy (though they can be if you like fancy people). Just pick your family, friends, or anyone you trust. Ask them if any questions arise while reading the story, and what you can do to answer them.

3. Consider the World of Your Story

If you’re writing a murder mystery set in Ancient Greece, the “Why don’t they call the cops?” question isn’t especially relevant (though Socrates calling the police on an iPhone is a hilarious image). Conversely, if you’re writing a murder mystery set in the distant future, you might need to put extra brain power into your explanation.

Why? Because as a reader, I won’t believe that in the year 3000 we’ll have phones like we do now. In fact, I’m not even sure we’ll still have phones. Would we have neural pathways connecting us all? Could you simply think, I’m in danger!, and then get instant help. You must take extra care to consider how the rules of your world affect readers’ questions.

Questions Need Answering!

Don’t be like the author of the book my wife is reading. Anticipate your readers’ questions, then answer them. And if you need a place to start, start with this one: “Why don’t they call the cops?”

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.

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.

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.