Tag Archives: writing tip

Writing Exercise – Christmas with your Characters

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For the month of December, my posts will all be Christmas-themed, just to be festive (or annoying, depending on your point of view). You can love it or hate it, celebrate it with joy or celebrate a different winter-time festival—but either way, Christmas is here and so is its impact on our culture. So I figured it would be appropriate if my blog reflected that.

I love Christmas (just in case my regular readers hadn’t picked up on that yet!) And every year starting about mid-November, I get a strong urge to write a Christmas story, or at least a Christmas scene, even if the current project I’m working on has nothing to do with Christmas.

I often do write at least a partial scene that involves Christmas, and it can be a fun and insightful writing exercise. Especially if your story does not involve Christmas, writing a Christmas scene with your main characters can be a way to learn something about your characters that you may not have known before.

For example, if your story takes place most anywhere on earth sometime during the past 2,000 years, it’s likely that at least one of the characters has at least heard of Christmas, right? So what might that character’s Christmas traditions be like? Take a moment and just imagine, and then write it down.

Does your character come from a dysfunctional family where no one gets along and holiday gathering consist of arguing and watching  TV? So what if that character was invited to a classy Christmas party with their new spouse’s happy, well-adjusted family? How does your character react?

What if your Native American character is just learning to trust the ranchers who moved into his territory, and they invite him to spend Christmas day with them on their new farm? Does he just watch through the window as they bring a tree into the house and sing songs around the old piano, or does he go inside?

Really, this writing exercise doesn’t even have to be about Christmas at all. Use a different holiday—any holiday. Or some other special event—a wedding, a football game, a concert, a family reunion.

This sort of writing exercise works best if it’s about an event that is not part of the plot of your story. It’s intended to get you to explore a side of your character that you hadn’t thought of before, to add depth to their personality and background.

So if your story is about a teenage boy who follows his two favorite bands all over the country in hopes of becoming a rock star one day, then writing a scene with him at a concert would be important for the story, but not a unique exercise.

But for a crime drama about a hardened cop who’s forgotten how to enjoy himself, writing a scene with him at a concert might be a way for you to discover what your character is like when he unwinds.

Or send the rock star boy or the hardened cop home to the grandparents house in the country for Christmas. Now what does the character do?

If you’re taking some writing time over the holidays, then try this exercise with one or more of your characters. It doesn’t have to be about Christmas, or any other winter-time festival. Just put your character in some setting that is logical for their life, but may not occur in the actual plot. And then write!

Spend some quality time this holiday with your characters, and get to know them a little bit better.

And have a merry Christmas!

World Building, part 2

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Last week I covered three guidelines for creating a convincing world in fantasy and science fiction. I’ve got three more to add to that list.

1. Do your research

This may seem counter-intuitive or unnecessary for something that isn’t real anyway, but some of the best sci-fi and fantasy is well researched before it’s written.

My post on natural laws in the previous world building list could be part of this “research” aspect. Things have to make logical sense within the world that you create.

If you have an alien planet with a gravity of ten times that of earth’s gravity, chances are that the dominant species on that planet will not be humanoid up-right bipeds. A creature with a human-like form and physiology would not be able to withstand the intense gravity. Let your creativity flow, but do a little research first.

For another example, let’s say you’re writing a fantasy story about a medieval-like kingdom battling an invading army. Both sides are using bows and arrows, swords, horse-drawn chariots, and the like. However, if you have an army of women bounding through the treetops, swinging from branch to branch shooting at the enemy with longbows, you might want to stop and do some research.

Longbows can stand six feet high, and shoot an arrow with enough force to pierce through thick metal armor. The bows are much too large and heavy to be wielded by someone bounding through the treetops. This is not to say that you have to become an expert on medieval archery to write a fantasy battle (I probably got some of the details wrong myself in that little illustration). But my point is that a little research on some of the key topics could save you embarrassment later.

2. Names and Languages

Many writers like to invent languages—or at least words and phrases in other languages. Most of us aren’t as adept as Tolkien was, writing several full-fledged dialects of his Elven language. But inventing a few words, or even a system of grammar and syntax, can be a fun challenge and can add a layer of realism to any fantasy story.

Character names should reflect the language, if there is one, and should definitely reflect the setting and the culture. Just imagine how jarring and inappropriate it would have been if Tolkien had tossed in a Braedan and an Emma in with Elrond and Galadriel, or a Josh and Mary in with Théoden and Éowyn.

In my current WIP, I haven’t invented any languages, but I do have characters from several different cultures—and the names are distinct to each culture. One set of creatures—the rulers of the woodland areas—have names that reflect who they are: Forest Dreamsong, Moon in the West, and Summer River. Another kind of creatures have names like Sydämen-Syöjä, Iku-Turso, and Ajatar. There’s no confusion as to which character might belong to which culture.

3. Consistency and Continuity

This is really the most important of all of these world building guidelines, I think, and one that I’ve mentioned repeatedly. No matter how much research you do, or what natural and cultural laws you establish or how many names you invent, the key is to be consistent.

Many readers can forgive a glaring lack of research if the element still fits within the context of the story and is consistent throughout. But I can almost guarantee that readers will be less forgiving if you forget halfway through your story that your alien race breathes only methane. Or if the kingdom in your epic fantasy forbids women to wear purple, and the princess goes out in a violet gown and no one bats an eye, the readers will notice and wonder about it.

With sci-fi and fantasy, you can build any kind of world you want, and that’s what makes those genres so fun. Just remember to establish the rules of your world, do a little research to make those rules believable, and then stick with it! Continuity keeps even the most absurdly fantastical story together.

Any other world building guidelines or suggestions you’d like to share? Please comment!

World Building, part 1

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Setting is important, to one degree or another, in just about any work of fiction. But the genres of fantasy and sci-fi need something a bit heftier than a mere setting of the scene. In this post and the next one, I’m going to cover a few basics of the specific sort of scene-setting known as world-building.

In the genres of fantasy and science fiction, basically anything goes. But even in these and related genres (dystopian, paranormal, etc), there are guidelines that should be followed for the story to hold together and be convincing.

A fantasy world does not have to be “realistic” in the sense that it resembles our own world, but it should have its own set of rules, and things that happen in that world need to happen in accordance with these rules.

Inaccuracy or inconsistency of details are things that savvy readers will notice. Sci-fi and fantasy readers especially can be a nit-picking, detail-oriented bunch (or, at least, I am. And I’m sure I’m not the only one).

1. Natural Laws

Gravity, weather, the day-night cycle, the behavior of animals in their native environments—nature follows a set of laws in our world, and in a fantasy world it should do the same.

Let’s say your sci-fi story is about human colonists on a planet that orbits very close to its sun, so the surface temperature is hot enough to liquefy steel in minutes. If their space ships can barely survive long enough to land and take off again, then a lone human parading around in a space suit isn’t going to fare any better.

Are the humans’ colonies deep underground? Do they live in mobile cities that travel at the same rate as the planet’s rotation, so they always stay on the cooler night side of the planet? Even though the story is not “realistic” in the sense that it’s our world here and now, it needs to be realistic in that setting.

2. Cultural Laws

This one gives the writer more leeway than natural laws, in my opinion. You can set up your culture of fairies or aliens or gothic kingdoms any way you want. Religion, clothing, dinner table customs—go nuts and be creative! The most important thing about cultural laws is making these traditions laws within the story, and sticking to it.

In The Silver Chair (of The Chronicles of Narnia), when the main characters are eating dinner at the giants’ mansion, it’s revealed that the venison served had been a Talking Stag. Killing (and especially eating) a Talking animal amounts to murder of the highest degree in Narnian culture. The giants’ complete disregard for this cultural law makes them an abomination to the Narnians.

In several of the Narnia books, the subject of killing a Talking animal—even in self defense—is mentioned. The consistency of this cultural law throughout the series adds depth and believability to the world.

3. Avoid Deus ex machina

This is the “move of God,” or a surprise ending where an unexpected superpower sweeps in and miraculously fixes everything. Deus ex machina can occur in any genre, but fantasy and sci-fi can be particularly susceptible.

If your urban fantasy story is about clan warfare between different vampire clans in the city, and you’ve written yourself into a corner where the only way to stop the war is to sacrifice the main character, you have one of three options.

You can kill off the main character, and pull at your readers’ heartstrings (or possibly incur their wrath). You can go back and do some major rewriting, so that the tension and drama and resolving of the conflict challenges the main character but doesn’t kill him. Or, you can have some aliens abduct the rival clan and take them to another planet, thus halting the war.

That third option would be a Deus ex machina, and should be avoided at all costs. If aliens are already part of the story, or have been hinted at and foreshadowed effectively, then maybe you could get away with that sort of ending. But if the story is about vampires, humans, and more vampires, then suddenly bringing in aliens to solve the problem cheapens the story and confuses the readers.

I’ll continue this list next week. Any thoughts about these world building tips? Any dos or don’ts you’d like to add?

Characters are real people, too – part 2

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A while ago, I did a post with tips on writing well-rounded characters. I decided to follow that up with another post, featuring three more tips on how to flesh out your characters and make them just like real people. We are all more than the sum of our parts, and your characters should be, too.

1. What’s the motivation?

There’s always a why behind the what. Nobody does anything for just “no reason,” even if it seems like it at the time. Even something as innocuous as stopping for ice cream on the way home from work just on a whim has a motivation—you wanted ice cream more than you wanted to get home in a hurry.

Where the plot of a story is concerned, character motivation is a very important feature. Actually, I could devote an entire blog post to this (and many talented writers have already done so). But in short, your characters, major and minor, have a reason for doing what they do. The decisions that characters make is the main thing that drives the plot.

For an example, I’ll use Dumbledore and Snape from the Harry Potter series. (I must insert a quick confession: I’ve actually read only the first three books. But assuming that the movies were at least slightly accurate to the books, I feel comfortable in using these characters for this particular point).

Both Dumbledore and Snape spend the series protecting Harry. They go about in radically different ways, and that stems primarily from their motivation. The end goal for both men is the same: protect Harry. The reason? So that he can defeat Voldemort. But each man has a very different personal motivation for devoting the rest of his life to protect the boy who lived. Just in case you haven’t read the books or seen the movies, I won’t give away all the details; but it’s apparent right from the beginning that Dumbledore and Snape have very different motivations for everything that they do.

2. Challenges and struggles hit everyone

This can be related to motivation, because the way that character responds to challenges and struggles is what makes a plot. A story with characters who never go through troubles, never get stretched or challenged, and make no decisions because they have no motivation, is not a story at all.

There are basically two types of challenges (in stories and in real life): self-imposed struggles, and externally-imposed struggles. A story about a man who loses his wife could be told in many ways: did he lose his wife because of his stupid financial decisions and his refusal to curb his temper (self-imposed struggle), or because his wife was killed in a plane crash (externally-imposed struggle)?

In the His Dark Materials series by Phillip Pullman, the characters all become involved in the plot in different ways. Lee Scoresby finds himself involved in a multi-world war (the struggle) simply by doing a quick helpful deed for a strange little girl (his motivation—kindness and a desire to help out someone in a rough spot).

The character of Will Parry becomes involved in the war (the struggle) because he is on a quest to find his father and will stop at nothing to get answers (his motivation). Because the motivations of these characters is different, they respond to the various challenges and struggles in different ways. They also are faced with their own set of individual struggles (some self-imposed, especially on the part of Will), apart from the war that is the overall plot of the series.

3. Whose head are we in, anyway?

This is sort of a point of view tip (which I blogged about here). But as it relates to characters, the point of view or perspective can be used as a tool for the development of characters. If a story is being told in first person (narrated by I) or limited third person (he or she) then the reader can learn about the character’s quirks, faults, motivations, and decisions through interior monologue as well as external actions.

Characters who are not narrators of the story can only be developed through their actions and dialogue, as presented by the narrating characters. This doesn’t mean that non-point of view characters are flat or lacking some way—it just means that the author must chose a different way to develop the character.

I could use most any story for this example, but I’m going to use Ruse, a short-lived comic book series that probably few people have heard of or read. It was a Sherlock Holmes-esque sleuthing story, set in a steampunk Victorian world. The two main characters are Simon—the detective, and Emma—his assistant and the narrator of the story.

Even though the story is told from Emma’s point of view, complete with her inner musings about Simon, the two characters develop equally well throughout the series. Simon is a well-rounded character because of all of the points that I’ve covered in both of these posts—his quirks, his strengths and weaknesses, his motivations, his response to struggles. Emma’s thoughts about Simon contribute to this, because she is constantly second-guessing him and wondering about his actions.

As a narrator, Emma shares her thoughts with the reader—but not every thought. She has secrets of her own, which Simon often figures out just as fast as the reader does. Simon has secrets too, and towards the end of the series, the reader feels that they know Simon perhaps better than Emma does—specifically because of her inaccurate interpretations of his actions and motivations.

Emma’s quirks, weaknesses, and motivations are revealed as she reluctantly divulges bits and parts of her secrets to Simon (and the reader). Simon’s quirks, weakness, and motivations are revealed as Emma interprets them through her own personal filter. The writer(s) of this series used this limited point of view narration to develop two very strong characters in two very different ways.

Please share your thoughts! Any other tips or ideas about developing three-dimensional characters?

Walk through the Door

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Nike says “Just do it.”

James the brother of Jesus wrote, “Do you need to be shown that faith without actions has no value at all?” (emphasis mine)

Goethe said, “Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.”

In The Matrix, Morpheus tells Neo: “I told you I can only show you the door. You have to walk through it.”

What’s my point here? My point is that after you’ve learned, studied, believed, been guided, and prepared, it all still comes to nothing if you don’t do something.

While this applies to anything in life, I’m applying it specifically to writing here, since this is supposed to be a writing blog. If you want to be a writer, then you have to write something.

Preparation and training is by all means important. You can—and to one degree or another, probably should—read books and blogs about how to write well. You can plot out an outline for a book, you can do research, you can pore over a baby names website to find the perfect names for your characters. You can put together a playlist of inspiring songs, you can read interviews with all of your favorite authors.

But to be a writer, you actually have to write something.

Side note—I’m not talking about being a published author here (since I’m not one yet). I’m talking about being a writer (I am one of those, because I write).

Sit down and begin the story. Compose a scene, or a bit of dialogue, or the first part of a chapter of your non-fiction book. Your book (or poem or essay or song) will not write itself. And no amount of preparation will get it written, either.

I have been guilty of this more than a few times in the past, of confusing “preparation” with “doing.” I’m a plotter and proud of it, as opposed to a pantser—I painstakingly plot, outline, and make notes about every detail of the plot before I start to tell the story. (A pantser tends to be a bit more of a free spirit-type, and usually will sit down to write before having any idea what they’re going to write about). Neither method is better than the other one, but I think that plotters can fall prey more easily to the deception that “plotting” is the same as “writing.”

Now I am not advocating a lack of preparation. If you don’t have an excellent command of the English language (or whatever language you’re planning to write in), it might help you to take a class or study some grammar and writing books. If your story involves a place, time period, or other subject that you’re not already an expert in, then by all means do some research.

However, I have often gotten so involved in the plotting and research areas that days or weeks will go by without me actually writing anything. Yes, I’m doing important work for my book. But after six days of plotting, brainstorming, developing character backstories, studying maps, and doing other research, I finally take a good look at my manuscript, and discover it’s still blank.

To paraphrase Morpheus’ instructions, you have to walk through the door. Walk is an action, and it’s something that each person must do for themselves. Your English professor can teach you the elements of a good story, but she can’t write the story that’s in your head. Your favorite blogger can give you dialogue tips and point you to sites you can use for research, but he can’t compose your book for you. When Morpheus walked through the Oracle’s door for the first time, he walked through it for himself alone—and now it was Neo’s turn.

And in the world of being a writer, we have to keep walking through the door again and again. Research, study, read, outline…and then go write something. Then it’s back to more researching, reading, and plotting…and then go write something again.

Neo had to step through the Oracle’s door only once–but then he spends the rest of the movie acting on what he learned. It’s a continual process. So is writing. Consistency in writing can be surprisingly hard (and that, I think, is the subject of another blog post). Finding the perfect balance of preparation and action can be challenging, too, and it’s different for every person. But it’s necessary for everyone.

So go read, study, and prepare. And then go write something!