If you’re writing a story and the light bulb just flashed over your protagonist’s head, you really want to tell your readers all about it. “He suddenly realized…” you might write. But before you do, pause for a moment. Let’s talk about that realization and how you can show it to your readers.
Sure, we’ve talked about “showing versus telling” before, but the word “realized” deserves a conversation all to itself. There are a lot of words and phrases that writers over-use—another big one on this list is “suddenly,” for example—but becoming aware of how you use these words and why is the first step in bringing a story from okay to awesome.More
Pay attention when you speak with others. How often do you use names? How often do other people? Use real life as your guide, dear reader. Otherwise, reader, it comes off a bit forced. Don’t you think, reader?
You know what’s great about people? We’re all different. How I say things is totally different from how my husband does, which is totally different from how my mom would, which is totally different from how my two year old would. Why? We’re different people. We have different language patterns, different brains, and different life experience.
Moreover, if you put me in a room with these people, the way I stand—perhaps swaying as if I’m holding a baby (even though I might not be)—is different from my husband who might be stretching, or my mom who might be talking with her hands, or my two year old who… well… has an inability to stand still.
People are different. When you write about your characters, allow them to be distinctive. All shouldn’t wink at each other when they say something clever; they shouldn’t all gesture with their hands, nor sigh heavily, nor twirl their dark mustaches menacingly (okay, maybe you weren’t using that last one for everyone). When writing falls into a pattern, you see the author’s personality, not the characters’. And the author should be the invisible hand that guides the story, not the center focus, right?More
Isn’t it weird how characters can take control of a project, and you as the writer are suddenly just a tool in process of creation, like a brush in an artist’s hand? This has happened to me many times through the years, but most recently on a revision of my novel. There were a few tweaks I planned on making, but as I reviewed my pages, strengthening and tightening my prose, my characters unexpectedly began to flirt.
Maybe sitting untouched and lonely in a computer file for months without any attention led them to personal explorations when I wasn’t looking; maybe they just needed time to grow on each other. A major age gap was abruptly forgotten, as the dialogue dripping from my female lead’s tongue was not that of her age. She had been younger this whole time, and I had pigeon-holed her else-ware. The poor woman was probably screaming at me to ID her this whole time, like a girl on the brink of her 30th birthday buying beer.
But now I know. My characters corrected me. Ages now accurate, love interest defined, they flirted and playfully bantered across my pages, creating a sexiness my manuscript had lacked. What fun!
As an update, I finished my edits today. What version of my novel this is I couldn’t tell you, easily past draft five. Looking back, it seems so odd that I felt proud of my “finished” book in the spring of 2008. It was an accomplishment, but now it’s ready… I think… I hope…
Writing: what a beautifully schizophrenic, maniacal process.