Tag: writing tips (Page 1 of 3)

The Three Authors of April, Part 3: Neil Gaiman

July 5, 2022 /
neil gaiman

Image copyright: nrkbeta, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I haven’t been to many rock concerts, but I suspect I now know what it’s like. I went to a Neil Gaiman reading.

BTW: This is the final part in a three-part series chronicling all the author events I attended in April. Part 1 was about Colson Whitehead and Part 2 was about David Sedaris. Part three is about to begin.

The Event

After a 30-minute sojourn into Schenectady, New York, I parked on level two of a parking garage near Proctor’s Theatre, then noticed a girl with a sparkling black dress and purple hair. Only the most interesting people come out to see Neil Gaiman, and many of them are moderately goth (like the author himself).

I purchased tickets to this event almost three years prior. Originally scheduled for 2020, the pandemic said “LOL” to that plan, sweeping in like the big bad wolf to huff and puff and blow the date to 2021, then 2022. Fortunately, the final date stuck.

I attended with my brother-in-law Dan (shoutout to Dan), who read the entirety of Gaiman’s Sandman catalogue in a matter of months. Once we met up, we proceeded into the theater (theatre?) for an evening with Neil.

The Author

If you’re not familiar with Neil Gaiman’s work, you soon will be; his masterful Sandman comic series comes to Netflix in August. He’s also penned novels for adults (American Gods, Good Omens, Stardust), children’s books (Coraline), movie scripts (Beowulf), and even nonfiction (The View from the Cheap Seats). Name a genre and he’s written it.

Proctor’s was sold out, and when Neil took the stage wearing his customary all-black attire, that sold-out crowd erupted. I snagged a pic:

Neil Gaiman

That glow though.

What’s that burst of light onstage? Is Neil some sort of radiant angel? Well, no—this is just what happens when you take a picture in the dark. But hey, judging by the ovation, he might as well be divine.

To kick off the festivities, Neil commented on how this event was supposed to take place two years prior. “Sorry I was late,” he said. He then read several pieces, beginning with “Credo,” a nonfiction piece written in response to the Charlie Hebdo murders carried out by Al-Qaeda. For his second reading, he asked if we wanted something funny or scary, to which the overwhelming response was, “Scary!” So, we got “Click Clack the Rattlebag.”

After that, I lost track of the readings. I know he did “Chivalry” and “Making a Chair,” though I don’t recall the order. He also read a piece I’d never heard before and never caught the name of, mostly because I was afraid of another member of the audience.

Her name was Holly. I know this because, at some point halfway through the show, she stood up and announced her name, then informed the crowd that she’d invented a device to “solve the bipartisan machine.” This really happened—you can ask Dan if you don’t believe me. It was so bizarre and unexpected that, for a moment, nobody spoke.

Neil tried to diffuse the situation with humor. “Holly,” he said, “I should warn you, this crowd might tear you limb from limb.” Holly kept going, though, and the good people of Schenectady began to jeer. One concerned citizen even offered a helpful recommendation: “Shut your face!” At that point, Holly shrugged, said, “Okay,” then reclaimed her seat and did not speak again. I suppose the bipartisan machine will continue to chug along.

Aside from that, it was a wonderful night. Between readings, Neil answered questions, many from educators and librarians. A few I noted…

Q: Of all your characters, which was the most fun to write?

A: Delirium from Sandman. “She did her own dialogue.”

Q: You have been described as critic proof. How does that feel?

A: “I am? Oh, good.”

Q: What advice do you have for young writers?

A: “Get into trouble.”

My notes grow sparse from there, probably because I was enjoying myself. I did write “my butt hurts,” though that’s to be expected when you’re seated for two hours. Yet no one remained seated when the evening ended. We gave Neil a standing, raucous ovation. It truly did feel like a rock concert.

The Takeaways

Neil Gaiman continues to be the sort of author I aspire to be. He’s made a living from writing what interests him, whether it be adult fiction, comic books, nonfiction, screenplays, or anything else.

For me, Neil exemplifies creative freedom. And that’s a goal worth striving for.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The Three Authors of April, Part 2: David Sedaris

June 20, 2022 /
David Sedaris

Image copyright: Harald Krichel, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I had the privilege of attending three author events in April. Last week, we kicked off the series with Colson Whitehead discussing space crackheads. In part two, I met David Sedaris.

The Event

It was Sunday, April 10, and Sedaris visited the Oncenter in Syracuse, New York. Tickets were a birthday present from my wife (thank you Sara!), and Sara’s mom Karen also joined us.

The first thing I recall seeing: A long table seasoned with Sedaris’s many books, which have delightfully eclectic covers. For instance, we purchased a copy of When You Are Engulfed in Flames; its cover depicts an astronaut’s skeleton sinking into sand, while a futuristic spaceship crumbles in the background. It looks like an Asimov novel, though Sedaris writes humorous nonfiction. I’m unsure how those connect, but I dig it.

The Crouse Hinds Theater wasn’t sold out, but it was pretty well filled, especially for a Sunday afternoon. We sat about 10 rows back on the right side of the stage—the perfect vantage to appreciate the author’s entrance. Speaking of which…

The Author

If you’ve read David Sedaris, you’re familiar with his affinity for culottes. He often writes about them, and though I’m aware of these pants from his writing, I’ve never actually seen them—until this event.

Turns out they’re a silky, reddish-orange garment that fall just below the knees and billow when you walk. Sedaris wore his with a suit jacket. They look super comfortable, and I might try wearing them if I was brave enough (not that I am).

Other than the culottes, my notes for this event were less thorough than those for Colson Whitehead. This is because the lights went down and remained dim until the end. I had my notebook and pen ready, but I couldn’t see what I was writing. The result: My notes were even messier than usual, not to mention incoherent. What does “piece on scaffolds” mean, anyway?

Still, even without my notes, I recall the sheer coolness of the event. Hundreds of people gathered in an auditorium to hear someone read stuff. We love to make sweeping claims about society these days, one of the most common being that cell phones have killed the long attention span. Yet there we were, a few hundred contradictions, enjoying a simple reading for over two hours. Aside from quick pictures, I saw nary a cell screen.

Anyhoo, enough cultural commentary. Let’s talk about jizzum-soaked hags.

David Sedaris said it, not me. I know this because it was one of the few legible entries in my notebook, as if God really wanted me to remember it. For context, Sedaris was listing phrases The New Yorker has cut from his articles in the past. “Jizzum-soaked hag” was used to describe a woman who accosted him during a late night wander through Central Park, an episode he went into hilarious detail on.

After various anecdotes like this and a few essays, Sedaris concluded the readings with some journal entries. I’ve kept a journal of my own since this date, mostly because I want to someday sell mine like he did. Here’s an entry from the day after the event:

“It occurs to me that Sedaris leads a far more interesting life than me. If you’re reading this someday in the future and you’ve paid for it, prepare for anecdotes about Albany, New York, Taco Bell, and the annoyances of indie publishing on Amazon. I apologize in advance.”

Nobody’s paying for that—but journaling has been fun nonetheless.

Sedaris capped things off with questions. This was perhaps my favorite part of the afternoon, because, unlike other authors, he makes no attempt to be polite in his answers. For instance, someone asked him, “What’s the best state to visit on book tours?” Sedaris answered something to the effect of, “We can’t end on that question, somebody give me another.”

The Post-Event

After the reading, we met the man himself. I didn’t take notes on this, so you’ll have to trust my memory. (Now we’re both in trouble.)

The line was long, and it stayed long no matter how long we stood in it. It was for good reason, though: Sedaris talks to everybody. This isn’t the cursory chat you get from most authors, where you say, “I just love your books,” and they say, “Why thank you, devoted follower.” Sedaris strikes up an actual conversation with everyone in line.

For example, he commiserated with my mother-in-law on the disadvantages of having the name “Karen” these days. Sedaris suggested that internet fads eventually pass, so this one probably would, too. I think Karen appreciated that.

My wife and I said little during this exchange. For weeks prior, Sara brainstormed something great to say, perhaps hoping she would appear in future books. She even considered giving him a salt potato or a jar of Pastabilities pasta sauce, sort of like a Syracusian peace offering.

Of course, once we got to the front of the line, we couldn’t think of anything except the occasional, “Yeah” or, “Thank you,” maybe even a, “You were great.” So it goes.

The Takeaways

Journaling! I tried keeping a journal in college but never maintained it. Since seeing David Sedaris, I’ve had far more success. And if I ever collect the entries in a book and sell them, you’ll know who to blame.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The Three Authors of April, Part 1: Colson Whitehead

June 13, 2022 /
Colson Whitehead

Image copyright: editrrix from NYC, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Way back in April, I attended three live author events, and I did not once get Covid. One was virtual, but still, it was a good run.

Initially, I planned to cover them all in one article. However, since each event was so informative and unique, I decided to write a three-part series instead. We begin on April 6th with Colson Whitehead.

The Author

Colson Whitehead is one of four authors in history who’s won two Pulitzer Prizes for Fiction, and he’s the only author ever to earn them consecutively. He’s written for the New York Times and The New Yorker, and in 2002, he was awarded a MacArthur Genius Grant.

To my shame, I’ve only read one Whitehead book: The Noble Hustle, a nonfiction account of the author’s forays into the world of professional poker. It was funny, witty, and well written, so I was pleased to learn the author would be speaking at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. (Bonus points if you can spell “Rensselaer” without spellcheck. I can’t.)

The Event

I attended this one from my couch. No, it wasn’t via astral projection—I watched on YouTube. Best seat in the house.

Whitehead himself attended via Zoom, though I understand he was initially scheduled to join live. He was, however, recovering from a recent bout of Covid, hence the remote attendance. He drank water and cleared his throat constantly throughout, so by the end I felt bad for the poor guy!

This was an event for writing students at RPI, so Whitehead began with advice. His overriding message was simple yet important: “Keep going. Stick with it.”

This sentiment resonates with me, especially now that I’ve completed my most recent novel. Some days I have a definite feeling of, So now what? I don’t yet know the answer, but there’s only one way to find it. Keep going and stick with it.

Whitehead then discussed his inspirations for his novels, including The Underground Railroad. The book began by taking the phrase “underground railroad” and making it literal. What if there was a railway under the earth that transported slaves? He internalized the idea for sometime, afraid to commit it to paper. Eventually, he decided “the one you’re afraid to do is the one you should maybe be doing.”

Now that is a revelation. If you’re afraid of a book, it’s probably because you know it’s important. In Colson Whitehead‘s case, his fear inspired a masterpiece.

Regarding his most recent novel, Harlem Shuffle, he wondered, “Can I do a heist book? I gave myself permission.” Again, here we see Whitehead’s overriding ideology: Write what interests you.

That’s an important reminder for indie authors like me, since we get preoccupied with trends. What works for some can work for many, sure. But if we conform to conventions rather than giving ourselves permission to write the books we’re most afraid of, we must be, to borrow a metaphor from the world of The Noble Hustle, leaving some chips on the table.

The Q&A portion came next, and someone asked what his next project would be. He said he’s deciding between two: a romance story and a sci-fi story. To study, he’s watching The Golden Girls and Star Wars. This was one of several answers where I honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking.

The topic of Star Wars sparked some of my favorite bits from the whole event. Whitehead cited all the technological achievements of the Star Wars universe, light sabers and interplanetary travel and cryogenic freezing, and yet he wants to know why (and I’m quoting here) “R2-D2 can’t get a fuckin’ voicebox, I just don’t get it.” He then likened jawas to “space crackheads,” a comparison that seems apt (not that I’ve met many crackheads—or jawas, for that matter).

There were several more questions, yet one stood out to me most. When asked about the intersection of reading and writing, Whitehead said this: “Read to find out what kind of writer you want to be. Write to find out what kind of writer you are.”

The Takeaways

I’m going to continue writing what interests me, particularly those ideas I’m most afraid of. I’m going to read more Colson Whitehead books (I’ve got Harlem Shuffle on the shelf). I’m going to keep reading and writing. And you know what? I’m going to avoid space crackheads.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

How to Take Forever to Write a Book

March 24, 2022 /

Writing Tips

My new novel, Eggs for the Ageless, finally arrives on May 16, 2022. I say “finally” because it’s taken eight years to write. For context, here are some differences between then and now:

  • No one had yet heard of the phrase “social distancing.”
  • Tom Brady only had three Super Bowl titles.
  • “TiK ToK” was a song by Ke$ha, not a social media platform.

So, in the spirit of the classic writing advice article, here are some tips on taking forever to write your book. Take it from someone who knows.

Tip 1: Play Video Games

I recommend Pokémon or Magic: The Gathering. The latter is technically a card game, but when you play primarily on your phone or laptop, it might as well be a video game. You’ll write far less, but you’ll be rich in digital currency.

Of course, it could be worse. In high school, for example, I’d stay up until three in the morning playing Rock Band 2. I went multiplatinum and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, yes. But I really should’ve been writing.

Tip 2: Have a Baby

Babies are an excellent way to delay books. I mean, they’re adorable, lovable, and infinitely amazing—but they take a lot of work. Enough so that while you’re raising your child, other people are writing books about how you should be raising your child.

FYI, my daughter Sasha was born last fall, so that’s how I know this. So if you’re thinking of taking forever to write your book, try having a baby. You’ll have less writing time, but you’ll have something much better.

Tip 3: Rewrite Your Book Several Times

If you’re dissatisfied with your book, rewrite it. If you still don’t like it, rewrite it again. If you still don’t dig it, keep rewriting it until you’re happy with it. When will that be? Hah. Good question.

I did one big rewrite of Eggs for the Ageless. Though that might not sound horrible, it meant scrapping 300 typed pages for 500 typed pages, without a single sentence in common between the two. Time consuming? Yes. But it was also essential. This was the first manuscript I’d ever completed, so I had no idea what I was doing.

First off, my protagonist was a complete schlub. His name was Bart and, like my current protagonist, Egg, he wrote a book that accidentally became a religion. Problem was, Bart was whiney, aimless, and ultimately uninteresting. During the story’s climax, for example, he cracked some mediocre jokes and did little else. Furthermore, Bart’s desires were never clear. I gave him a half-assed romance plot, but it never connected to the central conflict. So, when I rewrote the book, I knew I needed a better protagonist.

I’m thrilled to say I found that protagonist in Egg. Her main goal is reconciliation with her hyper-religious mother, which symbolizes the novel’s greater conflict. It all works far better, thanks to Egg. (RIP Bart.)

So, if you’re finishing your book too fast, consider rewriting it oodles of times.

Tip 4: Work on Other Books

I was excellent at this one. After completing the first draft of Eggs for the Ageless in the summer of 2014 (at that time I called it The Gods or Dear Gods…Why Aren’t You Listening?), I embarked on other writing journeys. A brief list:

  • Who the Hell is Julian Strange?, which would later become my first novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks
  • A book with five characters in three parts, with each part set a decade apart, which will actually be releasing next year
  • Monsters of Dusk, a short fiction collection that was recently named a finalist for The Wishing Shelf Awards
  • A National Novel Writing Month project called Upstate and a While Back
  • An unfinished manuscript about a futuristic haunted house in which a monster runs loose

Now that’s a lot of distractions. I mean, I’m glad I wrote them (aside from the haunted house one), but they did delay the release of this work.

Tip 5: Procrastinate

This is a tried and true classic method—just ask any writer. Whether it’s Tweeting, playing with the dog, or diving down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, there’s no better way to take eight years to finished a book. Take it from someone who knows.

But no matter how long it took to write Eggs for the Ageless, it’s finally arriving on May 16, 2022. You can buy it directly from this website, or anywhere else books are sold. Hope you enjoy it!

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include two books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Thanks, GRRM: Lessons Learned from George R.R. Martin

June 21, 2021 /

George R.R. Martin

Whether written or read, every book is a lesson.

George R.R. Martin is one of the best I’ve ever learned from (and for more than just his gratuitous descriptions of food). GRRM’s writing has made an indelible impact on mine. So today, I’d like to share some of my favorite lessons with you.

(Be forewarned—there will be spoilers for his books!)

Lesson 1: It’s Good to Bully Characters

Though I’ve covered this subject before, it remains a tough lesson to internalize. Yet the truth is plain: It pays to be mean to your characters.

Nobody’s nastier than George R.R. Martin. He beheads poor Ned Stark in book one, murders Renly Baratheon in book two, then goes ham in book three by killing Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Joffrey Baratheon, and Tywin Lannister (among others).

And those are just the characters who die. The ones who live fare little better, i.e. Jaime Lannister getting his hand lopped off, Bran Stark being tossed from a tower, Daenerys Targaryen losing her son and hubby within hours of each other, and so forth.

I am almost certain Martin likes all these characters (with the exception of Joffrey). Yet he still bullies them. It’s the right thing to do.

Imagine, for example, if Martin liked Robb Stark too much to have him killed at the Red Wedding. Doing so would deprive us of one of the most shocking plot twists in modern literature—and television, for that matter. (I remember when the Red Wedding episode of HBO’s Game of Thrones aired. People could not stop talking about it.)

Bullying one’s characters means putting them in difficult situations. This forces one’s characters to be clever, courageous, and resilient; in short, it makes them more interesting. The meaner the writer is, the more momentous their characters’ eventual triumphs will be.

Lesson 2: Plan Ahead

As a kid, I dreamed of writing series. I dreamed of trilogies, quartets, quintets, whatever you call a six-book series, and more. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire is a planned seven-volume series, and it’s masterful.

Before anyone writes an angry comment, let me clarify. Martin’s series is masterful. His writing pace? Not so much.

But part of what makes the five existing books so compelling is their foresight. The more you read, the more you’ll notice that those vague prophecies and ethereal dreams always seem to come true. That’s because Martin plans ahead, and has a destination in mind.

Consider this passage from Catelyn Stark’s point of view in A Game of Thrones:

“Sometimes [Catelyn] felt as though her heart had turned to stone…”

An innocuous line when you first read it. Yet once we get to book three, when the Freys murder Catelyn and Beric Dondarrion resurrects her, she goes by a new name: Lady Stoneheart.

And that’s just a subtle example. Adding these nuggets throughout the series makes the books feel even more intertwined and interconnected. Plan ahead and reap the rewards.

Lesson 3: A Good Mystery Goes A Long Way

I’m not much of a mystery reader, but I probably should be. I always enjoy books with even a hint of the unknown. Martin has those hints in spades.

There’s the classic R + L = J equation, a long-standing theory which I won’t spoil for readers (but was confirmed in the series). Also, what the heck happened to Benjen Stark, who went ranging in the wild in book one and never appeared again? And what game are Illyrio Mopatis and Varys playing together?

I’ll stop there to preserve my word count. But you can visit the long-running Forum of Ice and Fire or the series’s Subreddit for more mysteries and possible explanations. If a series has enough enigmas to fill two websites with content, you know it must be special.

Lesson 4: Perfection is an Illusion

In second grade, I decided I wanted to be a writer. Fantasy was my genre, chiefly inspired by The Lord of the Rings. I loved the trilogy, yes—but part of me resented it as well. I’d convinced myself that no one—particularly me—could ever write anything better.

Then, 10 years ago, my dad invited me to watch a show I never heard before: A Game of Thrones. He’d heard about it somewhere and knew how much I loved LOTR. So, we watched the pilot. (Not really the type of show you should watch with a parent, but so it goes.)

Here’s a short list of the things I witness on my first visit to Westeros:

  • Nudity
  • Incest
  • Attempted child murder
  • Several creative uses of the word “fuck”
  • Characters who aren’t clearly good or evil

What blew me away was the audacity of the story. Game of Thrones took epic fantasy, a genre that celebrated heroism and the triumph of good over evil, and turned it into something far uglier—and in many ways, more compelling.

I spent the summer of 2011 watching new episodes every Sunday. The other six days of the week were spent tearing through the novels. And though it didn’t come immediately, I eventually had an epiphany: I liked A Song of Ice and Fire better than Lord of the Rings.

When you see perfection improved upon, you realize nothing’s perfect. There’s always more to be done, a higher place to climb, a better book to write. GRRM’s work helped me see past the ceilings I’d always believed were there. I doubt I’ll ever write anything better than Lord of the Rings. But if Martin could do it, it can’t be impossible.

Thanks, GRRM

Though we’ve never met, I’ve learned so much about writing from George RR Martin. I hope you did as well.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their cats, and their dog. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories that make readers laugh.

Architect or Gardener: Which Kind of Writer Are You?

February 18, 2020 /

Writer

As a writer, I’m fascinated by other writers’ writing habits. There are infinite ways to construct a story, so it’s interesting to hear how others choose to do it.

George R.R. Martin, author of A Game of Thrones and its sequels, devised an excellent metaphor for writers and their processes. He divides them up into two loose categories: architects and gardeners.

What exactly does that mean? Let’s dig in.

Architects

Here’s how Martin defines them:

“The architect, as if designing a building, lays out the entire novel at a time. He knows how many rooms there will be or what a roof will be made of or how high it will be, or where the plumbing will run and where the electrical outlets will be in its room. All that before he drives the first nail. Everything is there in the blueprint.”

In other words, architects plan everything before writing it. They might work from a detailed outline or multi-page treatment. Architects often devise character bios or event timelines. If you’ve ever covered your wall in sticky notes, you’re probably an architect (or maybe a detective?).

When I did screenwriting in school, we were obligated to be architects; that is, we were required to write an outline for every script. Makes sense. With only a semester to write, it’s a unwise to choose a destination without a map.

However, spending time as an architect revealed some inherent weaknesses with the style. For one, characters might feel a bit less natural when they’re written to an outline. Characters come alive when they make organic decisions which align with their established traits. They can feel stiff when making decisions for the sake of an outline.

Of course, being an architect also has its advantages. For instance, architectural writing tends to feel more focused, especially on first drafts. Architects spend less time searching for their path since they’ve already built. All that’s left is to expand upon it—adorn it with some yellow bricks or something.

Gardeners

I’ll let Mr. Martin take over here:

“And then there’s the gardener who digs the hole in the ground, puts in the seed and waters it with his blood and sees what comes up. The gardener knows certain things. He’s not completely ignorant. He knows whether he planted an oak tree, or corn, or a cauliflower. He has some idea of the shape but a lot of it depends on the wind and the weather and how much blood he gives it and so forth.”

Gardeners plant the seed of an idea and watch it blossom. Unlike architects, they usually don’t have a blueprint for their stories. Instead, gardeners often begin with a particular thought, character, or scene, then work from there. Where it goes is anyone’s guess.

Although being a gardener is liberating, it also requires a lot of trial and error. Gardeners might start on a promising idea and spend weeks nurturing it. But what if it doesn’t grow? What if it doesn’t go anywhere? It’s discouraging to spend time on a particular piece only to realize you have no idea how it should develop.

The advantage of being a gardener (besides the fresh vegetables) is that such writing often feels spontaneous. Unlike architects, gardeners will often find surprises within their own work. Gardener characters also might feel less rigid than architect characters. Their actions will often shape the story since there is no predetermined path for them to follow.

Which Are You?

Here are Martin’s closing remarks on the subject:

“No one is purely an architect or a gardener in terms of a writer, but many writers tend to one side or the other. I’m very much more a gardener.”

As Martin wrote, most writers fall somewhere near the middle and lean toward one side or the other. So which are you closer to: an architect or a gardener?

I’m still figuring out which side I favor. In my screenwriting days, I had to be more of an architect. After graduating, I swung far (maybe too far) towards gardening. Now I’m shifting back toward an architect.

Whichever you are, keep building and keep planting. Keep writing!

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories about coffee.

When Writing Dialogue, Don’t Forget Who’s Talking

January 20, 2020 /

A burly henchman wearing an eyepatch and a prickly sneer leans against a castle parapet. He stands not three paces away from a knight in glittering armor. The latter of the pair is not happy.

“I’ll ask again,” growls the knight. “Did you or did you not witness the incident in question?”

The henchman thinks on this for a moment. He wads a ball of phlegm in his throat and spits, not far from the knight’s shiny boots.

The henchman says, “For whom do you work, sir?”

And the reader thinks, Wait a second. What?

Dialogue is one of the trickiest components of writing fiction. We authors spend years learning the numerous rules of grammar and punctuation, only to discover they should, almost always, be ignored when writing dialogue. After all, people rarely talk like they write.

Consider the above example. It’s grammatically correct for the henchman to use “whom” in this statement, since it’s a pronoun in the objective sense. Furthermore, avoiding the construction “Whom do you work for?” precludes a hanging preposition at the end of the sentence.

Yes, this line demonstrates good grammar. But it’s still bad dialogue.

That’s because when we write dialogue, we must always remember who’s talking. Dialogue is about character, authenticity, and occasionally plot—it’s almost never about adhering to syntax or grammar.

The henchman’s line feels wrong because everything else he’s done suggests he wouldn’t talk like that. He’s a henchman, he sneers, he spits near people’s nice boots. There’s no way this guy would know the difference between who and whom.

Ideally, dialogue sounds unique to the character speaking it. I find it helps to ask myself, Would this character say that? Or, Is this how this character would say it? Or, Would this character use that word, or another?

Questions like these make writing dialogue both difficult and enjoyable. It’s a challenge, and like any challenge, improvement comes with practice. There are many ways to develop the right voice for characters, but I think the best way is to just write. And write. And write.

Most importantly, let’s not forget who’s talking. It’s the number one influence on every line of dialogue.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories about coffee.

Praise or Honest Feedback: Which Are You Asking For?

December 2, 2019 /

I’ve got a story for you. It goes like this:

The other day, I asked my wife for feedback on my writing. This is not unusual; she always offers great thoughts on how to improve my work. This time, I gave her a piece about a creepy painting (which you yourself can read here).

My wife had a lot of thoughts on the piece. After a while I found myself disputing them. When she said the characters felt flat, I said that was intentional. When she said she wanted something creepier, I argued it was creepy enough.

I stepped away from this experience wondering why I did what I did. If I wanted honest feedback, why then did I disagree with it when I got it?

Here’s my theory: Though I asked for it, honest feedback wasn’t what I was looking for. I actually wanted praise. I wanted someone to tell me my story was good.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this is not all that uncommon. Take members of my writer’s group, for example. Some members have received honest feedback at meetings, then haven’t returned for future meetings. These folks also didn’t write down any of the feedback they received. That makes me think they weren’t actually looking for constructive criticism. They wanted someone to tell them their writing was good.

I think all writers do this to some extent, whether or not we realize it. When we share our work, it’s because we hope others will derive some enjoyment from it. (Otherwise, why share it?) Some part of us wants to hear that our readers like our writing.

So then, is it wrong to seek praise? I don’t think so. For writers, praise is essential. Praise validates what we’re doing. In my aforementioned writer’s group, for example, we always start critiques by stating everything we like about the piece under review. It’s arguably the most important part of the whole process.

If you feel upset when you receive people’s honest feedback, it might be because you’re unconsciously hoping for praise. So when you solicit feedback, be upfront about what you’re looking for, both with the reviewer and yourself. If you want to know what people like about a story, ask them. Don’t ask for honest, constructive criticism unless you really mean it.

And remember: Everyone needs praise, but praise on its own won’t make our writing better. Constructive criticism will. When you’re ready, make sure to ask specifically for both praise and criticism. “What did you like about this piece?” “How do you think I can improve it?”

Whether it’s praise or honest feedback, communicate exactly what you’re looking for. It’ll make you (and your reviewer) much happier.

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.

For Writers, Hoarding Ideas Is a Big Mistake

July 1, 2019 /


We all do it, even though we probably shouldn’t. It’s that thing where we say to ourselves, “I’m saving this idea for my next story.” Or, “That character isn’t entering until the third book in the series.” Or, “I had this great idea for a line of dialogue, but I’m keeping it for the project after next.”

As writers, we all hoard our ideas from time to time. And I think we should all try to do it a little less. Here’s why.

Hoarding Makes Ideas Less Fresh

Let’s say you’ve got an idea you’re really excited about. Maybe it’s a character, a setting, a plot point. Whatever it is, it’s a fresh idea. Why allow it to go stale?

That’s what we do when we hoard ideas. Stephen King wrote this in the classic On Writing and I agree—ideas come out best on the page when we’re most excited about them. So if an idea intrigues you, I say go for it. Don’t allow those fresh ideas time to cool off.

Hoarding Assumes We Won’t Have New Ideas

Hoarding food in preparation of the impending zombie apocalypse makes sense. Good eats are going to get scarce once the zombies shamble into town (unless of course, you are a zombie yourself). By its very nature, the act of hoarding implies scarcity. But unlike food, ideas are completely renewable resources. When we hoard them, we’re forgetting that fact.

We’re writers, right? We make stuff up for fun or work (or both), then we pour our imaginations onto the page. Just because we haven’t thought of the next idea yet doesn’t mean we never will. The idea will present itself to us when it’s ready. So let’s not get into this scarcity mindset.

Hoarding Can Limit Quality

Let’s say you’re writing a trilogy. You want books two and three to be just as good as book one, so you save some of your best ideas for the later two volumes.

My question is, do you still have enough good ideas for the first book? Because if you extract concepts and inject them into the later volumes, you might be left with a rather shriveled first book. Not a good place to be. Readers are highly unlikely to complete a series when they don’t enjoy the first entry. And if readers don’t make it to your sequels, they’ll never enjoy those great ideas, anyway.

Focus on making your current project the best it can be. Cross future bridges when you come to them.

In Conclusion

Sure, sometimes ideas must wait. For structural reasons, you might not be able to include every great idea in every story you’re currently working on. But if you have a great idea and you can incorporate it into the story you’re working on now, I say go for it. Now is the time!

Kyle A. Massa is the author of the novel Gerald Barkley Rocks and the forthcoming short story collection Monsters at Dusk. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. He lives somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats.

Proofreading Tips for Writers

June 24, 2019 /

Proofreading

If you want people to read your stuff, it usually helps to make sure it’s readable. That’s why proofreading is so important.

Submitting a messy manuscript is like showing up to a job interview in shorts and a hoodie. And if you’re trying to collect feedback from your writers group, friends, or family, they’re going to have a tough time focusing on the writing when all they notice is that you’re using the wrong “their.”

With that in mind, here are some proofreading tips that work for me. Hopefully, they can work for you, too.

Print It Out

If you do your writing on a computer, try printing your piece and editing right on the page. I’m not really sure why, but I tend to catch way more mistakes on a physical page than I do in a word processor. Plus, you can handwrite your edits directly onto the paper, which makes you look like a serious and dedicated writer to anyone passing by.

Be Patient

When I’ve got a piece I’ve dedicated a lot of time and thought to, it’s tempting to send it out immediately. It’s exciting, after all, to think that someone might read it and love it as much as I do. It’s tempting, but don’t jump the gun. Sit on it a while.

Allow yourself ample time to review your piece. Come back to it a day later, and then a week later, even a month later. Doing so will give you some much needed distance. Oftentimes, you’ll come back to your piece, cringe, and then ask yourself, “Why the hell did I write that?”

Be Critical of Everything

When you’re proofreading, don’t just look for spelling and grammar mistakes. Those are important to weed out, but proofreading gives you the opportunity to refine your style as well. Are you repeating certain words over again? Are you varying your sentence structure? Is your tone consistent throughout?

One way to be critical is to treat your piece like it’s not your piece. Pretend that you’re an editor and that you’ve been given a stranger’s manuscript, and it’s up to you to make it better. Doing so gives you the distance you’ll need to make those necessary cuts.

Sometimes it hurts to hit that delete key, but in the words of George Orwell, “If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.” ‘Nuff said.

Ask Someone to Read Your Piece Back to You

This is probably my favorite method of proofreading. It helps to have the text in front of you as well, so you can follow along and mark down any errors either of you spot. Since your reader must pay extra attention to the text in order to read it aloud, he or she will be more likely to pick up on mistakes. And since you’re hearing it, you will too.

Take notes on where your reader struggles. If he or she has to go back and re-read a passage, there’s a good chance that passage needs some work. Likewise, note where your reader thinks you’ve succeeded. For example, if you have a line that supposed to be funny and your reader laughs at it, that’s a pretty good indicator that you’ve gotten your point across.

Use Your Computer’s Voice Command

Let’s say you don’t have anyone around to read your work to you. No problemo—we live in the 21st century, after all. Have your computer read to you!

On a Mac, head up to System Preferences, then click on Dictation & Speech. From there, choose the key combination you’d like to press to have the computer read your work (mine, for example is Command+Alt+S). Now head back to your document, highlight the desired text, hit your keys, and there you have it. Your computer should read whatever you highlighted.

I’m a big fan of this feature because sometimes, even when I read a piece many times over, I’ve still got errors. Fortunately, when I hear the work read aloud, I tend to hear things like redundancies and duplicate words that I might not otherwise notice.

What Else?

How do you proofread your work? Do you have your own secret methods? Maybe a sweet computer program I haven’t listed? Post it in the comments!

Lastly, if I’ve made any proofreading errors in this blog, shame on me.

Kyle A. Massa is the author of the novel Gerald Barkley Rocks and the forthcoming short story collection Monsters at Dusk. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. He lives somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats.

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