Tag Archives: Guest Post

A guest post by Nicole Lavigne.

Everyone knows a good story needs tension. We ask ourselves: what’s the problem, what’s the major conflict for the story? We’re not too likely to forget about that, and first readers will probably pick up on it if the main character never faces any trials, but that’s not the only tension we need to think about. There needs to be tension throughout the story, building slowly, sometimes in fits and starts too. It keeps a reader turning the pages. But perhaps one place where we might forget about tension, or fail to apply it, is in the opening. It needs tension too. Not big, THE END IS NIGH tension from the very first paragraph, but the first ripples stirring the water, the first creeping shadow while the sun still shines, making it clear that trouble lies ahead. I’m a slush reader for an online magazine, and this is one of my most common comments on stories: too slow in building tension.

Easier said than done, right? So of course, one of the pieces of feedback I got on my story Soil of Truth from my beta reader it was the lack of tension in the opening. Everyone got along too well. The main character, Osaeba, was the perfect apprentice and her mentor knew and appreciated it. One big happy family and absolutely no tension until the main problem was introduced, several hundred words later. Not good. The main problem of the story and its progression in the story was fine. But how to add tension in the opening when I am still introducing the characters and the world, before I can even get to the big problem? So I adjusted the opening. Osaeba was still a good apprentice, attentive and takes initiative, but I made her mentor more critical of her. It was a small change, and didn’t alter the plot, but it brought in some tension between the two characters. Now Osaeba is constantly trying to prove herself. The added bonus? That tension between them continued to build through the story and increased the tension in later scenes. Now it made even more sense when Osaeba’s mentor questions her concerns later on in the story.

Think about your own relationships. We rarely get along perfectly with everyone in our lives. Even people we like, and love, can have traits that get on our nerves or different opinions on important issues (religion or politics, anyone?). Misunderstandings happen all too easily. It’s not enough to end a relationship – a miscommunication or misunderstanding may be cleared easily enough with a conversation, once we have time to have it, or minor irritating traits are brushed aside – but they cause moments of tension. Fiction should show this as well.

The flip-side to this problem is starting a story in media rez, in the middle of the action. There’s lots going on, but if I don’t know enough about the character, their dangerous predicament won’t have me on the edge of my seat fearing for them. Tension works best when we care about the character and how events will affect them. We need to be invested in their hopes in dreams for the action to really mater. Starting in media rez can certainly work, but I find it works best if you give a sense of what’s at stake for the character: are they the innocent victim of a crazed murderer or fighting against the odds to save a loved one?

About Nicole Lavigne:

Nicole Lavigne has a BA in English and Theatre from the University of Ottawa. She still lives in Ottawa but considers all of Canada her home after bouncing across the country as a military brat during her childhood. She is a professional storyteller, writer, Editorial Assistant for Beneath Ceaseless Skies magazine, and daylights as an administrative assistant for the government. Her story, Soil of Truth, will be appearing in Second Contacts by Bundoran Press in the fall of 2015.

Things that go Bump in the Night

April 13, 2015

fictorians

Conflict Craft & Skills Guest Posts Horror World-building 1 Comment

A guest post by Marie Bilodeau.

“T’was a dark and stormy night…”

Settings can be tense little buggers.

They can be dark, scary, unknown places your characters have to wade through. Death traps waiting to munch them whole. Riddled with more evil than the brownish liquid in your fridge you think used to be a cucumber. They can be out to kill characters for no good reason aside from the fact that they’re in them.

Settings can be heightened to add tangible or intangible tension to your story, through simple texturizing or plot impacting game changers. Here are a few ideas to keep in mind when trying to heighten story tension through setting.

1. The Unknown
The things that your characters don’t know about where they’re headed can make everyone uncomfortable. Characters can theorize and try to guess, even from legends or stories. But not knowing can be freaky, because then all things are possible.

2. The Known
Flipside. Your characters know exactly how the upcoming landscape will try to eat them. How their eyes will explode out of their skulls if they misstep. It’s scary, because we know you brought cannon fodder along and we’re waiting to see who gets hit how badly. (Or doesn’t. Tension isn’t from what happens, after all. It’s the promise of what might happen. Just deliver on those promises often enough that you don’t lose reader trust.)

3. The Creep Factor
This falls into texturizing your setting. Is it a lush garden with big-eyed bunnies bringing magical carrots to your heroes? Is it an oil-covered jagged mountain that’s partly on fire? Does it smell like roses or iron? Can we hear birds or screams in the background? Think about what would heighten your story.

4. It’s a trap!
Don’t underestimate contrasts. A happy setting might put your characters and readers at ease. Good time to hit them with something painful. Like a landmine. Or a neck eating bunny. A gushing spray of blood is more striking in the light of a perfect day than it is in pitch darkness, after all.

5. Choice vs. Unchoice (that’s a word, right?)
This depends on the kind of story and character you’re writing, but does your character have to go through the bad setting? Or do they choose to do it? Choice can be powerful, and settings shouldn’t be left out. If your character chooses to go through the Swamp of Eternal Death instead of taking the Path of Happy Chocolate Making, they’re either a badass, completely insane or has no choice. How your character choose their path (if they have a choice) will impact how your readers view them.

6. Interpretation
How your characters view and interpret the setting will reveal, in subtle ways, your character’s background and experiences, without having to hit your readers over the head. Settings breed familiarity and comfort. Where we find comfort reveals a lot about us. I, for one, would not be comfortable in the Swamp of Eternal Death, for example.

In story, conflict and tension play a dance in every scene, keeping that elastic band so tight that your reader can’t put the book down at night. My favourite e-mails are from people having missed a bus stop because of my books, or a full night of sleep. I get no greater pleasure as an author.

Keeping that elastic tight, however, without making it seem tedious or overwrought with internal conflict can be a tough trick. Looking at how to heighten tension in different and subtle ways, like through your setting, might be something worth considering.

About Marie Bilodeau:

Marie Bilodeau is an award-winning science-fiction, fantasy and horror writer. Her latest book, Nigh, which she fondly describes as a “faerie-pocalypse,” is currently being serialized in bite-sized chunks, and is all about exploring tension through setting. Find out more about Marie at www.mariebilodeau.com.

Keeping the Tension Ramped Up in Combat Scenes

April 7, 2015

fictorians

Conflict Doug Dandridge Guest Posts Science Fiction The Writing Life World-building Writing Tools 1 Comment

A guest post by Doug Dandridge.

I mostly write military science fiction, and am writing military fantasy when not working on the next scifi novel. Exodus: Empires at War is a series with very detailed and lengthy battle scenes told from multiple viewpoints. I originally learned the main technique I used from reading the Dritzz DoUrden novels by R. A. Salvatore. If you’re not familiar with these wonderful stories, they involve a Dark Elf who has turned his back on his evil people and now fights the darkness with his mighty companions. There are very detailed battles in which maneuvers great and small are described, and often the companions find themselves fighting out of sight of each other. Not only are their battles told from their viewpoints, but the point of view of their major enemies. In my own battles, which can last for as many as eight chapters, you get the points of view of characters at different areas of the fight, on the different departments of the ships, even from both sides of the battle. I even switch back and forth from battles going on simultaneously hundreds of light years apart. Some people might find this a bit confusing, but my fans, military science fiction aficionados all, write rave reviews about the amount of detail.

I have seen writers who do their battle scenes from a single viewpoint, and they read like an endless description of the good guys fighting an unknown, a faceless enemy that could be anything. They go on and on with description after description, interspersed with dialogue, until the writer has to get to the climax or totally lose his readers, in most cases much too soon. I like to use a movie approach that switches back and forth and gives play to both sides. For example, think of The Wrath of Khan. First scene is Kirk watching the Reliant approach without establishing communications. The scenes switch back and forth to Khan ordering shields raised, Spock telling Kirk; Khan ordering locking on phasers, Spock telling Kirk; Khan yelling fire. Switch to the scene of phasers hitting the Enterprise, then a shot of the panic in engineering as everything goes to hell. Then back up to the bridge. The action comes in bursts from different points of view, including the omniscient one of the Reliant blasting the Enterprise.

Of course, Hollywood likes to show these kind of scenes in a manner that puts both combatants front and center, even if there are a whole bunch of them. Witness the final two episodes of Deep Space Nine, where there were over a thousand ships, and the screen was crowded with them. Something to do with wanting to awe the audience. In my novels battles are fought at long range, beam weapons almost useless until units get within a light minute of each other. Even at that range it takes time for a weapon to hit, and even ships two kilometers in length would appear tiny if on the same screen. In a book, the screen is the mind, and as long as you can convince the reader of that immensity, they will see it. But even here Hollywood gives an example when they want to. The movie Midway showed the battle between American and Japanese carrier forces, a fight where the ships didn’t see each other, but launched aircraft to do the actual attack. But with judicious switching of viewpoints they conveyed this type of fight perfectly. And it’s much easier to do in a book.

Doing each chapter as a series of mini-scenes in this way makes almost every scene a cliff hanger. Each installment ends with an unknown. Missiles coming in, lasers burning through the hull and klaxons sounding, the characters on the edge of disaster. The next scene does the same to someone else, on some other ship, then to the enemy, who is having problems of their own. Interspersed are scenes of small victories, and, as the fight progresses, much larger ones. After a sequence covering one part of the fight I like to change to a different area of the battle, maybe even a different star system, for the next. In this way I move the reader through an epic battleground where they are carried from tension to tension, with some small resolutions along the way.

To me the worst way to resolve a battle is with a non-event. I have read a lot of books where they build up to the fight, the training, the organization, the hopes and dreams of those involved. And in the next scene, it’s all aftermath. I feel ripped off by those stories. People read books that promise action because they want to read about that action. I provide that action. The first book of my Exodus series, more of a Universe establishment tale, had limited action, maybe twenty to thirty percent, and that is the worst reviewed of the series. After that, the action increases, until the later books have almost eighty percent action sequences. Some people may think that too much, preferring more time for character development or background. The thing is, I am working as a full time author by writing such, and success proves to me, at least, that the method works.

About Doug Dandridge:

Doug Dandridge is a Florida native, Army veteran and ex-professional college student who spent way too much time in the halls of academia. He has worked as a psychotherapist, drug counselor, and, most recently, for the Florida Department of Children and Families. An early reader of Heinlein, Howard, Moorcock and Asimov, he has always had a love for the fantastic in books ad movies. Doug started submitting science fiction and fantasy in 1997 and collected over four hundred rejection letters. In December of 2011 he put up his first self-publishing efforts online. Since then he had sold over 100,000 copies of his work, and has ranked in the top five on Amazon Space Opera and Military Science Fiction multiple times. He quit his day job in March 2013, and has since made a successful career as a self-published author.

Should the Socially Awkward be Professional Writers?

April 6, 2015

fictorians

Guest Posts Living Deliberately Networking Professional Behavior The Writing Life 1 Comment

A guest post by David Boop.

Despite what jocks, preps and princesses might believe, not all nerds are created equal. Just like any pool of people, some rise to the surface while others languish in the shadows.

Is this fair? Heavens, no. Is it reality? You bet your sweet bippy.

Whether or not you believe all persons are the same in the eyes of God, it is a truth that we place people in mental categories within our minds. Smart – Stupid. Safe – Dangerous. Normal – Awkward. It is easy to drop those we meet into virtual file cabinets of our brain to help us determine how much effort we’ll spend on them.

I grew up a geek in small town Wisconsin. I was verbally and physically abused by my classmates for it. This is a common experience among creative types, including writers, artists, and filmmakers. (Musicians seem to get away with more, I have no idea why. You can be a dork, play the guitar and somehow still be cool.)

It started with my last name, Boop; a funny sounding, easily picked on name. When you have a name like Boop, you’re put into a category of clown, even if you’re not one. My name was used as a swear word around my school.

“I’m going to go take a Boop.”

“I’m going to Boop you up!”

“I Booped your mother last night.”

I didn’t make things any better by not growing out of comics, action figures, video games, cartoons and science-fiction novels. I found very few people to share these interests with in a school focused on athletic excellence. Dating was next to impossible. I was told by a friend on Facebook that there were warnings not to date me or risk being removed from the popular crowd. Girls called me a “goon” behind my back. But this wasn’t solely due to my nerdy proclivities.

I was and, in many ways, still am socially awkward.

I didn’t walk the walk, nor talk the talk. I wasn’t into the same things other kids were and thus didn’t have the vernacular down. Slang eluded me. I came from a conservative household. It is hard to be a “good boy” while feeling pressure to lose your virginity, drink and raise hell. I finally caught up to my peers at nineteen when I went into radio, started working nightclubs and doing stand-up comedy. I finally understood what it took to be popular and that meant being a crazier bastard than everyone else in the room.

The “good boy/crazy bastard” dichotomy has carried over into my career as a writer. Yet, thirty years later, the tables have reversed. Now the popular kids want me to be a good boy; always be politically correct, sensitive to minority and women’s rights and not to sleep around at cons.

Wait! That’s not fair! I just got this down. Filthy mouth, bad jokes and loose morals meant popularity. How and when did that change? These new rules are the same rules my parents tried to instill in me as a child. You mean they were right? (Please tell my child that someday I might be right, too. Please?)

And so I shift again, not always as quickly or effectively as I’d like. I’m still that awkward kid, trying to get the vernacular right. Still trying to prove I deserve to be one of the cool kids.

With the accessibility of publishing and the growth of the genre market, writers who may never been that socially awkward kid are finding success, and thus have no frame of reference to what we’ve been through. And they’ve been given a platform called the Internet. There are too many watchdogs with too little compassion for people like me who don’t always “get it.” Writing used to be a solitary craft with very little exposure to either other writers and/or fans. Back then, when authors did get together, everyone was socially awkward and more forgiving. They welcomed the weird with open arms and it was a safe place to be wrong sometimes.

Now that geek is chic, some people claim ownership of all things nerdy and say that nerds shouldn’t be creepy or inept, holding themselves up as examples. Shows like The Big Bang Theory and King of the Nerds poke fun at what are very serious issues for some nerds. People say they want a Raj or Leonard in their life until one tries to make friends with them and they’re turned away and shunned. It has been my experience that there are writers with little-to-no tolerance for those not playing at their level mentally, socially or politically. Any mistake in judgment is highlighted and waved in front of millions. If the offender does not fit into their definition of “acceptable,” then they should be attacked, banned, kept from getting published in certain circles, despite any skill they might have.

And, to be honest, in some cases they have valid reasons. They are writers who don’t know when to lower their voices, use tact, pay attention to their audience. I have been accused of many of these things, and while I’ve learned and adapted, many others haven’t. Some of these writers are not used to being around the opposite sex, or try too hard to be liked by their peers. They miss social cues, speak out of turn and don’t know when to back off. And when they find themselves in the sights of the socially adept, they have no clue why. Even when they have a light-bulb moment, they don’t know how to change. Most times the damage is already done. They lose friends, contacts and opportunities.

But don’t misinterpret what I’m saying that there aren’t dangerous people out there that need to be exposed. The predators who pretend to be what they are not. These are not socially inept people, they are sociopaths and bringing them out in the open is everyone’s responsibility.

Not all non-socially awkward people are evil and not all socially awkward people are saints. If I’ve learned one thing, there are plenty of buttheads on both sides of any disagreement. Heck, I know I’ve been accused of such by both sides. But we’ve all been bound together by this need to express ourselves creatively. Some of the most imaginative people I’ve read can barely carry on a conversation. Should they be ostracized for what may be the hardest thing in the world to them? I don’t think so.

Despite the challenges, I’ve adapted. I’ve learned to hold my tongue under most situations. I’ve developed patience and looked for deeper understanding when dealing with people in social circumstances. As I change, I’m building better relationships with other writers who understand, those who “get me.”

It’s worth it. I want to make writing work. I have to. The goal is worth the effort. Does that make me smarter than some? Does that make me better than others? No. I’m far from perfect and I still make mistakes…

And that just makes me human.

About David Boop:

David Boop is a bestselling Denver-based speculative fiction author. In addition to his novels, short stories and children’s books, he’s also an award-winning essayist and screenwriter. His novel, the sci-fi/noir She Murdered Me with Science, will return to print in 2015 from WordFire Press. David has had over forty short stories published and two short films produced. While known for Weird Westerns, he’s published across several genres including media tie-ins for titles like The Green Hornet and Veronica Mars. His first Steampunk children’s book, The Three Inventors Sneebury, had a digital release in 2013 with a print release due in 2016. David tours the country regularly speaking on writing and publishing at schools, libraries and conventions.He’s a single dad, Summa Cum Laude graduate, part-time temp worker and believer. His hobbies include film noir, anime, the Blues and Mayan History. You can find out more on his fanpage, www.facebook.com/dboop.updates or Twitter @david_boop.