Category Archives: Writing Tools

A discussion of the various software that authors employ to write, plot, backup, and ultimately use to write a novel.

K.M.Weiland’s Structuring Your Novel, Part Two

*Please note this is a two part series. Part one of the series was published on Monday, December 14th.*

 

On Monday, I gave a brief overview of K.M. Weiland’s fantastic writing resource Outlining Your Novel. Today, I’ll give a peek into her follow-up writing book Structuring Your Novel.

Let’s just get the argument out of the way first. Kristin, you’ve already said Outlining Your Novel was fantastic for me to have. How is Structuring Your Novel any different? Doesn’t she just repackage the material covered in Outlining Your Novel in this book?

First, Structuring Your Novel is, surprisingly, completely different than Outlining Your Novel. I can only think of a handful of times where Weiland references something from Outlining Your Novel, but usually to note something you should’ve already have done in the pre-writing stage. Think of it this way: Outlining Your Novel is about conceptualization, like blueprinting a future house. Structuring Your Novel is actually building said house. They are similar in that they are both processes of making a house, but completely different in action.

K.M. Weiland breaks up her book into two sections: the macros of story structure and the micros of story structure. The macros include: the hook, the beginning, the first act, the first plot point, the second and third acts, the climax, the resolution, and the ending. Some of these macros are similar, but Weiland breaks down their differences, what percentage into your book they should occur, and why each are important. She also outlines some common mistakes and pitfalls, how to avoid them, and how to fix them.

The second half of Structuring Your Novel consists of the micros, or scene and sentence structure. Once you’ve structured the overall story, now your attention needs to be paid to each individual scene and chapter. You want these micros to mirror the bigger story: the highs and the lows. Weiland specifically examines and defines The Scene and The Sequel, which I can assure you I did not learn in college. She also briefly examines sentence structure, getting super-micro with structure.

How important is structure, really? It’s the difference between the second book in a trilogy being the ugly stepsister, or as brilliantly important as The Two Towers. How you structure the events in your story will equate to how believable your characters and their actions are.

“Structure is required in all art. Dancing, painting, singing, you name it — all forms require structure. Writing is no different. To bring a story to its full potential, authors must understand the form’s limitations, as well as how to put its many parts into the proper order to achieve maximum effect.” (From the Introduction)

In summary, K.M. Weiland’s books on writing put information on outlining and structure in two, easily accessible locations. What I love best about Weiland’s overarching style in these books is that it is humble and unassuming. She draws from a huge breadth of knowledge on writing, drawing from other writers and other authors of books on writing, and presents the information as clear as a bell.

If you want a clear, no nonsense approach to the basics of prewriting and structuring a story, you need these books.

K.M. Weiland’s Outlining Your Novel, Part One

*Please note that this is part one of a two part series. The second part of this series will be posted on Thursday, December 17th.*

 

It never fails. I sit down, Scrivener doc open and ready. And I’m terrified and completely unsure of where to begin. Luckily this year, I’ve discovered two books that have forever changed my writing process from here on out.

Many people will tell you to just sit down and write. Some will say to have an overall plan, but the important thing is that you sit down, every day, and write, no matter how painful it is. I offer you an option three: plan. And plan carefully.

In K.M. Weiland’s book Outlining Your Novel, she writes:

K.M. Weiland

“Each author must discover for himself what methods work best for him. Just because Margaret Atwood does X and Stephen King does Y is no reason to blindly follow suit. Read widely, learn all you can about what works for other authors, and experiment to discover which methods will offer you the best results.

My own writing routine is a constantly evolving process. What worked for me five years ago isn’t necessarily what works for me now, and what works for me now isn’t necessarily going to work for me in another five years.” (Page 18)

Indeed, you should do exactly what works for you, even if a famous writer says it’s the worst advice she’s ever heard. You should do it if an author you don’t necessarily like also adheres to the same advice as you do.

So, if you’ve decided outlining is for you (and Weiland goes through pros and cons in the very first chapter to help you decide), where do you go from there? In the rest of the book, Weiland overviews every pre-writing method I’ve ever seen, from crafting your premise to writing your pitch, character sketches to character interviews.

What I love most about Outlining Your Novel is that you don’t have to do every single exercise in the book. You get to choose what will be helpful for your process. But Weiland doesn’t skimp on giving you ideas about how to think about your novel in the conceptual stage, as she shows you how to approach shaping your creative ideas into a tangible game plan.

One of the items I found incredibly helpful was in chapter four. Weiland encourages you to look at all possible outcomes, all possible conflicts that could arise with the characters you’ve chosen or in the situations you’ve dreamed up.

“Even when you think you have a plot problem all figured out, push a little farther by asking a few more questions. What if something else happened in this scene? What would change as a result? Would the resultant shifts be for the better or for the worse?” (Page 69)

 Sometimes we get so married to an idea that we don’t even want to consider other ideas. You aren’t doing your story justice if you could dream up an excellent side story, a secondary conflict, or a great additional character to make the world richer. Ask yourself what’s expected, and then what’s unexpected.

At first blush, I’ll admit I questioned if I really needed Outlining Your Novel. I’ve been writing for over a decade. I have my degree in creative writing. Is this book really going to help me? I wondered. And the answer is a loud, enthusiastic yes. From me to you, yes, this book will absolutely help you. Some of the knowledge is common. But I found that I was pleased to have a reminder of that knowledge. K.M. Weiland digs deeply into the pre-writing process, deeper than I have ever gone. This is an incredible resource to have in my library when I’m dreaming up a new story, and I think it could be for you as well.

On Thursday, look for part two of this series when I go over K.M. Weiland’s Structuring Your Novel.

Try/Fail Cycles of Writing Advice

The Internet is filled with blogs, discussion forums, and clever tweets about writing. Though my writing friends and I do our best to keep up with the latest news and tricks, it feels like trying to drink from a fire hose. Go Google “writing advice” and you’ll find nearly half a million results!

WritingAdviceGoogle

Clearly, there is no shortage of people willing to talk to young authors about writing. So thank you for choosing to spend some of your time with us, sharing the Fictorians with your friends, and reading our thoughts and words. We appreciate your patronage and hope you find us helpful in your own writing journey!

Though we writers want to learn from the successes and failures of others, it is essential to remember that what worked for a New York Times best seller may not be effective for me, and that’s perfectly okay. Ultimately, any piece of advice should be judged based on its efficacy for the end user, not the prestige of the source.

As an example, I once read that the “best” way to be a prolific writer while also working a day job is to get up three hours early each day and spend the time writing. Not only will there be no distractions in the early hours of the morning, but your mind is freshest right after waking up, right? Okay, I gave it a try… and failed miserably. I am a morning person, but I am NOT a getting out of bed person. It’s mostly a matter of inertia. I have an alarm clock I keep across my bedroom in addition to my phone on my bedside table and set, on average, six to eight alarms a day. However, once I’m vertical and have some momentum, I’m good to go. Unsurprising to anyone, getting out of bed three hours earlier than I absolutely needed to be never happened. That piece of advice, though effective for others, failed me miserably. Oh well! Moving on.

But what if it wasn’t when I write, but rather HOW I write that was slowing me down? Kevin J Anderson swears by his dictation method for first drafts, and he’s by far the most productive author I know. He is able to hike up 14,000 ft mountains while spinning a yearn, send off the recording for transcription, and then edit the resulting manuscript into a best seller. This technique has resulted in over 23 MILLION books in print. I do a lot of driving, biking, and hiking, so why not double dip that time? Furthermore, physical activity works wonders to get my creative mind juices flowing, so I took a risk. I bought a recorder, a copy of Dragon Naturally Speaking, and spent the better part of a year practicing dictating my stories and blogs. Though I can do it, the technique just doesn’t work as well for me as it does for Kevin. Instead of a steady stream of consciousness, I stutter and stumble, resulting in a file that DNS has a rough time converting into comprehensible prose. I then spend hours cutting, reworking, and revising that mess into a finished product. In the end I spend as much total time as if I were to sit down and use manual entry from the beginning. So, for most circumstances, I have stopped using the recorder.

Beyond the basic act of producing prose, there is the fundamental question of what to write in the first place. While the basic dramatic structure has been thoroughly explored, every book or blog on story I read seems to tout a system of “rules” that are absolutely, positively, 100% mission critical to ensure success, fame, and fortune. You must always have a shot clock, must always allow time for thoughtful sequels, must always have a love triangle, and must always do this and that and whatever or you are doomed to failure, remaindered books, and discount book bins. While all these elements can work wonders to spruce up your fiction, not every technique translates well across genre boundaries.

For example, I have read advice from a big name romance writer that insisted that all stories need a happy ending. That’s a great guideline if you are writing for a romance audience. Their main emotional interest is the vicarious experience of falling in love. However, a story of romance and seduction isn’t the only payoff, else they’d be reading erotica. A romance book is a story in which two lovers are able to overcome the factors that stand in the way of their happily ever after. The relationship is as important as the sex.

However, other audiences aren’t so picky. Look at the success of the Song of Fire and Ice (Game of Thrones) books. There aren’t very many happy endings, but the story is plenty thrilling and surprising. The grimdark audience is looking to fulfill a very different set of emotional needs. Different audiences, different stories, different rules. Consider what every genre has to give, but do what works best for your readers and story.

Over the years, I have read thousands of pages of writing advice and have found that there is no one-size-fits-all answer. The best advice comes from people with whom you resonate. Look for those who have had success in similar genres, the writers you liked to read growing up, and industry professionals who are involved with authors who write like you. Find those who have overcome struggles similar to what you deal with and figure out how they did it. Read as much material as you can get your hands on, but don’t feel bound to listen to any of it. Ultimately, your writing tricks and habits should be organic, always growing towards the goal of increased productivity. Steal what works for you and leave the rest eating your dust.

The Horror You Can’t See

As a writer who gravitates to the dark and desolate and desperate, I often inject a syringe full of horror into my stories. “You got your horror in my fantasy!” “Oh, yeah? You got your fantasy in my horror!”

This month, I’m going to talk about a technique that the best horror writers and filmmakers use masterfully—leaving things off-screen.

So before this wild assertion spurs someone to argue with me, someone whose tastes prefer everything upfront and in one’s face, let me say that I enjoy strategic splatter.

The human mind—especially that of a hard-core reader—possesses prodigious powers of imagination. I was reminded of this when I was writing Sword of the Ronin, the second book of my historical fantasy trilogy. A number of beta readers expressed some difficulty at getting through a scene where the hero, who has been tortured and imprisoned for some time, has no choice but to witness the execution of a fellow prisoner. My wife read that scene and told me that it was one of the most excruciating things she has ever read. She was quite surprised when I pointed out to her that everything in that scene had happened off-screen, so she went back and looked at it again. None of what happens in that scene is visible. The protagonist only hears things and sees indirect evidence of what’s happening. Nevertheless, it is a scene that sticks with a great many readers.

H.P. Lovecraft said, “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.” His essay “Supernatural Horror in Literature” is where this quote appears, and is absolutely essential reading for anyone who wants to write scary stuff. He used this technique over and over again. So many of his most memorable beasties are terrifying because we can’t quite see them. In “The Dunwich Horror,” the creature is invisible. Ghosts scare us worst when we know they’re there, but we can’t see them. The monster in the shadows. The strange sounds in the night. The serial killer hiding among us. The guy next door keeping someone chained up in his basement.

You don’t want to use the clichéd, cheap jump from the cat exploding out the cupboard. You want the kind of tension that lets the audience keep squirming in their seats.

The bottom line is that we’re more afraid of what we can’t see than what we can. In the aftermath of a great horror book or movie, we remember the fear we felt during the experience, but don’t find the monster as scary anymore—because we’ve seen it.

Should you keep everything off-screen? You certainly can. It’s an artistic choice; some audiences prefer their horror a bit more sedate. But you don’t have to.

Allow me to point toward one of the most effective horror movies of recent years, The Descent, which tells the story of six women exploring an unmapped cave. This movie is an incredible mix of both on-screen and off-screen horror. First of all, it’s in a cave, so unless the flashlights are on, the screen is pitch black. On top of the incredibly claustrophobic environment (it was often a wonder to me how this was filmed), tension is built by half-glimpsed somethings at the edge of the light, or by strange sounds in pitch blackness. Throughout much of the film the horror is barely glimpsed, suggested, implied. But then at a certain point, the flood-gates open, the gloves come off, and we are drenched in blood, ichor, and violence. It was one of those movies that’s so effective at what it set out to do that I don’t think I want to see it again.

Like all tools—from paintbrushes to tack hammers to prepositional phrases—it’s the artist’s craft that decides when to use it to achieve the desired effect. Sometimes you need the splatter, the dripping fangs, all eight of the giant spider’s luminous eyes in hairy close-up. But those are often best used as part of the Big Reveal, the Climax, the Gruesome Finale. Sometimes, you need the shadows, the invisible threat, the last glimpse of a foot being dragged around a corner, the knife that wasn’t where you left it, the sound of something slithering through underbrush, to crank up the tension. Prime the audience with unrelenting tension so that the Big Reveal produces an audible gasp.

About the Author: Travis Heermann

Heermann-6Spirit_cover_smallTravis Heermann’s latest novel Spirit of the Ronin, was published in June, 2015.

Freelance writer, novelist, award-winning screenwriter, editor, poker player, poet, biker, roustabout, he is a graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop and the author of Death Wind, The Ronin Trilogy, The Wild Boys, and Rogues of the Black Fury, plus short fiction pieces in anthologies and magazines such as Perihelion SF, Fiction River, Historical Lovecraft, and Cemetery Dance’s Shivers VII. As a freelance writer, he has produced a metric ton of role-playing game work both in print and online, including content for the Firefly Roleplaying Game, Legend of Five Rings, d20 System, and EVE Online.

He lives in New Zealand with a couple of lovely ladies and a burning desire to claim Hobbiton as his own.

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