Category Archives: writing

September 1, 2025 · 6:00 am

The second draft – a deeper dive into the emotional side of subtext #writing

Last week, in Monday’s post, ‘The Second Draft – Subtext,‘ we barely skimmed the surface of that aspect of our story. We discussed how it can be conveyed as part of world-building. But subtext is so much more. Subtext is emotion. It’s the hidden story, the hints, allegations, and secret reasoning.

  • Subtext is the content that supports both the dialogue and the personal events experienced by the characters.

These are implicit ideas and emotions. These thoughts and feelings may or may not be verbalized, as subtext is often conveyed through the unspoken thoughts and motives of characters. It emerges gradually as what a character really thinks and believes.

It also shows the larger picture. It can imply controversial subjects, or it can be a simple, direct depiction of motives. Metaphors and allegories are excellent tools for conveying ideas.

Subtext can be a conscious thought or a gut reaction on the part of the characters. It is imagery as conveyed by the author. A good story is far more than a recounting of ‘he said’ and ‘she said. ‘It’s more than the action and events that form the arc of the story. A good story is all that, but without good subtext, the story never achieves its true potential.

Within our characters, underneath their dialogue, lurks conflict, anger, rivalry, desire, or pride. Joy, pleasure, fear … as the author, we know those emotions are there, but conveying them without beating the reader over the head is where artistry comes into play.

When it’s done right, the subtext conveys backstory with a deft hand. When layered with symbolism and atmosphere, the reader absorbs the subtext on a subliminal level because it is unobtrusive.

An excellent book on this subject is Writing Subtext: What Lies Beneath by Dr. Linda Seger. On the back of this book, subtext is described as “a silent force bubbling up from below the surface of any screenplay or novel.” This book is a valuable resource for discovering and conveying the deeper story that underlies the action.

Some writers assume that heavy-handed information dumping is subtext because it is often conveyed through internal dialogue,

It’s not. Descriptions, opinions, gestures, imagery, and yes – subtext – can be conveyed in dialogue, but dialogue itself is just people talking.

When characters constantly verbalize their every thought, you run into several problems. First, verbalizing thoughts can become an opportunity for an info dump. Second, in genre fiction, the accepted method of conveying internal dialogue (thought) is through the use of italics.

The main problem I have with italics is that when a writer expresses a character’s thoughts, a wall of leaning letters is difficult to decipher.

Nevertheless, thoughts (internal dialogue) have their place in the narrative and can be part of the subtext. However, I recommend going lightly with them. There are other ways to convey thoughts. In the years since I first began writing seriously, I’ve evolved in my writing habits. Nowadays, I am increasingly drawn to using the various forms of free indirect speech to show who my characters think they are and how they see their world. I rarely use italics.

most of our random thoughts involve obsessing on what we could have done better.A character’s backstory is the subtext of their memories and the events that led them to the situation in which they find themselves. We use interior monologues to represent a character’s thoughts in real time, as they actually think them in their head, using the precise words they use. For that reason, italicized thoughts are always written in first-person present tense:  I’m the queen! We don’t think about ourselves in the third person, even if we really are the queen.

We think in the first-person present tense because we are in the middle of events as they happen. Our lives unfold in the “now,” so they are written as the character experiences them.

Memories are subtext and reflect a moment in the past. They should be written in the past tense to reflect that. If it was a moment that changed their life, consider rewriting it as a scene and have the character relive it.

We can combine memories and emotions in the form of free indirect speech:

Jeanne paused. The sight of that dark entrance brought a wave of memories, all of them dark and painful.

Chris, on his knees sobbing … their mother’s bloody form ….

She was too young to understand then, but now she knew why Chris seemed so emotionless at times.

Resolutely, she followed him inside.

Subtext expressed as thoughts must fit as smoothly into the narrative as conversations. My recommendation is to express only the most important thoughts through an internal monologue, which will help you retain the reader’s interest. The rest can be presented in images that build the world around the characters.

image of a question mark, asking "what was I thinking?"Information is a component of subtext. We have provided the reader with a lot of information in only a few sentences. They might think they know who a character is, and they have a clue about his aspirations.

But a good story keeps us hanging. Knowledge must emerge via subtext and through descriptions of the environment, conversations, interior monologues, and a character’s general impressions of the world around them.

Odors and ambient sounds, objects placed in a scene, sensations of wind, or the feeling of heat when the sun shines through a window. These bits of background are subtext.

I like books where the scenery is shown in brief impressions, and the reader sees exactly what needs to be there. We don’t want to distract our readers by including unimportant things, such as the exact number of ferns in a forest clearing. The ferns are there, the lost hiker thinks eating their tips is better than starving, and that is all the reader wants to know.

Subtext, metaphor, and allegory are impressions and images that build the world around and within the characters. They are as fundamental to the story as the plot and the arc of the story. As a reader, I’m always thrilled to read a novel that is a voyage of discovery, and good subtext makes that happen.

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August 25, 2025 · 6:00 am

The second draft – subtext #writing

Subtext is a complex but essential aspect of storytelling. As the word implies, subtext lies below the surface (sub) and supports the plot and the conversations (text).

It is the hidden story, an unstated knowledge embedded within the narrative.

Subtext can be inserted into the story through the layers of worldbuilding. It is conveyed by the images we place in the environment and how the setting influences our perception of the mood and atmosphere.

We all know good worldbuilding is more than simply detailing the setting. It starts there, but without the addition of mood and atmosphere, a coffee shop is just a room with a few tables and chairs. A reader’s perception of a gripping narrative’s reality is influenced by aspects of the setting that they may not consciously notice at the time.

How does good worldbuilding contribute to good subtext? The clues about mood and atmosphere combine on a subliminal level. This undercurrent shapes a reader’s emotional impressions of the story.

A brief mention of décor can convey atmosphere: Tess stood in line, looking around while Evan secured a table. Country-style furnishings lent a coziness to the room, a warm contrast to the rain pounding on the windows. Soon it was her turn to order. “Two large mochas, please.”

A view of the world from the characters’ point of view is essential, as it conveys mood.

“Why did they bother putting a sign on the dining hall? No matter what Temple you visit, every building is made of white sandstone and you always know where you are and what you are looking at.” Bryson’s scathing tones floated to the instructor, who glared at us all.

Afterward, while readers may not consciously remember details, they will remember what they felt as they read that novel. When asked who their favorite writer is, they will mention that author.

When we experience emotion, we are feeling the effect of contrasts, of transitioning from the positive (good) to the negative (bad) and back to the positive. Mood, atmosphere, and emotion form the inferential layer of a story, part of the subtext. When an author has done their job well, those transitions feel personal to the reader.

Atmosphere has two aspects: overall and personal. The overall atmosphere of a story is long-term, an element of mood that is conveyed by the setting as well as by the actions and reactions of the characters.

The overall mood of a story is also long-term. It resides in the background, going almost unnoticed. Mood shapes (and is shaped by) the emotions evoked within the story.

The inferential layer of a story has another component, one we must look at in the second draft. This is where another aspect of worldbuilding, scene framing, comes into play. This component has two aspects: first, it involves the order in which we stage people and visual objects, as well as the sequence of events along the plot arc. It shapes the overall mood and atmosphere, contributing to the subtext.

The second aspect of scene framing involves the plot arc and how we place the scenes and their transitions. We want them in a logical, sequential order.

Good worldbuilding can help us give backstory without an info dump, and symbolism is a key tool for this. Environmental symbols are subliminal landmarks for the reader. Thinking about and planning symbolism in an environment is crucial to developing the general atmosphere and affecting the overall mood.

For example, the word gothic in a novel’s description tells me it will be a dark, moody piece set in a stark, desolate environment. A cold, barren landscape, constant dampness, and continually gray skies set a somber tone to the background of the scene.

A setting like that underscores each of the main characters’ personal problems and evokes a general atmosphere of gloom.

Our characters’ emotions affect their attitudes toward each other and influence how they view their quest. This, in turn, shapes the overall mood of the characters as they move through the arc of the plot. And the visual atmosphere of a particular environment may affect our protagonist’s personal mood.

What tools in our writer’s toolbox are effective in conveying an atmosphere and a specific mood? Allegory and symbolism are two devices that are similar but different. The difference between them is how they are presented.

  • Allegoryis a moral lesson in the form of a story, heavy with symbolism.
  • Symbolismis a literary device that uses one thing throughout the narrative (perhaps shadows) to represent something else (grief).

How can we use allegory and symbolism in modern genre fiction? Cyberpunk, as a subgenre of science fiction, is exceedingly atmosphere-driven. It is heavily symbolic in worldbuilding and often allegorical in the narrative. We see many features of the classic 18th and 19th-century Sturm und Drang literary themes but set in a dystopian society. The deities that humankind must battle are technology and industry. Corporate uber-giants are the gods whose knowledge mere mortals desire and whom they seek to replace.

The setting and worldbuilding in cyberpunk work together to convey a gothic atmosphere. This overall feeling is dark and disturbing. That aspect of subtext is reinforced by the dark nature of interpersonal relationships and the often criminal behaviors our characters engage in for survival.

No matter what genre we write in, the second draft is where we expand on our ideas and fill in the gaps of the rough first draft manuscript. We find words to show the setting more clearly and use visuals to hint at what is to come. We create an immersive atmosphere by including colors, scents, and ambient sounds.

We choose our words carefully as they determine how the visuals are shown. When we have no words and feel stuck, we go to the thesaurus and find them.

Authors are painters, creating worlds out of words. We strive to create an atmosphere and mood that underscores our themes and highlights plot points without resorting to info dumps. Each word is a brushstroke that can lighten the mood as easily as it can darken it.

  • When we create a setting, intense color brightens the visuals, and gray depresses them. Those tones affect the atmosphere and mood of the scene.

In the real world, sunshine, green foliage, blue skies, and birdsong go a long way toward lifting my spirits. When I read a scene set in that kind of environment, the mood of the narrative feels lighter to me.

Worldbuilding is complex. It can feel too difficult when we are trying to convey subtext, mood, and atmosphere, using slimmed down prose and power words rather than flowery. But keep at it because the reader won’t be aware of the complexities involved.

All they will know is how strongly the protagonist and her story affected them and how much they loved that novel.

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August 18, 2025 · 6:00 am

Action, reaction, and consequences #writing

Some of my writing projects start with an idea for a good plot or character. Others are inspired by something I see or witness in my daily perambulations around town. But no matter how my ideas arrive, they all boil down to “what if….”

On rare occasions, usually at the midpoint of a story that I didn’t outline, it felt as if I was looking for water in the desert, as the ideas were few and far between. That’s when I used to find myself trying to make a novel out of a manuscript rife with unplanned stupidity.

I no longer force my brain to work when it’s on its last legs.

For me, the first stages of laying down a story are more like creating an extensive and detailed outline. This method helps me build an overall logic into the story as it evolves.

At every story’s outset, we meet our protagonist and see them in their familiar surroundings. The inciting incident occurs once we have met them, whether they are ready for it or not. At that point, we must take them to the next stumbling block. But what is that impediment, and how do we overcome it?

And, just as importantly, what repercussions will they face for having crossed that barrier?

Answering that question isn’t always easy. The place where writing becomes work is a hurdle that the majority of people who “always wanted to be an author” can’t leap. Their talents lie elsewhere, and that is okay.

front cover of Mountains of the MoonFortunately, I know what must happen next in my current work in progress because the story is already canon, a historical side note in Mountains of the Moon. At this point, I am brainstorming the characters’ motivations that lead to the desired ending.

I have found it helps to write the last chapter first – in other words, start with the ending. My first NaNoWriMo novel in 2010 began with the final chapter. I managed to write 68,000 words in 30 days thanks to my great characters, whom I wanted to learn more about. I was desperate to know how they arrived at that ending.

What happens when the first lull in creativity occurs? It often happens within the first ten pages. But no matter where it happens, we need to remember that an imbalance of power drives plots, and knowledge is power.

The dark corners of the story are illuminated by the characters who have critical knowledge. This is called asymmetric information, and the enemy should have more of that commodity than our protagonist.

The enemy puts their plan in motion, and we have action. The protagonists are moved to react. The characters must work with a limited understanding of the situation because asymmetric information creates tension. A lack of knowledge creates a crisis.

Plots are comprised of action, reaction, and consequences. I must place events in their path so the plot keeps moving forward. These events will be turning points, places where the characters must re-examine their motives and goals, and how much they are willing to endure to achieve them.

At several points in this process, I will stop and think about the characters. What do they want? How motivated are they to get it? If they aren’t motivated, why are they there?

Answering a few questions about your characters can kick the plot back into motion. Start with the antagonist because his actions force our characters to react:

  1. Why does the enemy have the upper hand?
    • How does the protagonist react to pressure from the antagonist?
    • What are the consequences of this reaction for both characters?
    • How does the struggle affect the relationships between the protagonist and their cohorts/romantic interests?
    • What complications arise from a lack of information?
    • How will the characters acquire that necessary information?

Our characters are unreliable witnesses. The way they tell us the story will gloss over their failings. We can accidentally make them into Penny Perfects if we aren’t careful. The story takes shape as the characters are compelled to overcome their weaknesses and confront their deepest fears.

My first drafts are just the skeleton of the tale, an expanded outline. I flesh out what I can as I write, and that first draft will still be somewhat thin with significant gaps.

Once the first draft is finished, I add visuals, action, and reactions. I may have gotten the large things down, but much will evade my imagination. To resolve that problem, I insert notes to myself, such as:

  • Fend off the attack here.
  • Shouldn’t they plan an assault here? Or are they just going to defend forever? Make them do something!
  • Contrast tranquil scenery with turbulent emotions here.

We all know that arcs of action drive plots. Every reader knows this, too. Unfortunately, when I’m tired, random, disconnected events that have no value will seem like good ideas. Action inserted for shock value can derail what might have been a good plot.

I never show my first drafts to anyone because the manuscript is more like a series of disjointed events and conversations than a novel. I save that file as a first draft once I have written the ending, because if (deities forbid) something should happen to a later draft, I will need that original file, despite it being not much more than a long and fluffy outline. The file name might be: my_novel_fst_draft

I then resave the manuscript as a second draft and begin stitching it all together, focusing on worldbuilding, expanding on scenes, and filling in the plot holes: my_novel_snd_draft

I must be honest. It usually takes five or six drafts and several years for me to make a coherent story with a complete plot arc and interesting characters with logical actions and reactions.

I am not able to churn out novels the way some prolific authors have done over the years. I write for fun and don’t worry about deadlines, which, in my opinion, is the sole reason for pursuing any art form.

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August 11, 2025 · 6:00 am

Riding in the Rattlebones and wearing the Cone of Shame #writing

At the sweet young age of seventy-two, I make all sorts of calculations as I go through the day. I attempt to cut recipes down to serve only one person but usually fail.

Then I give up and buy single-serve microwave meals. There is less waste, and it’s cheaper. I look for small loaves of bread in the bakery, quarts of oat milk rather than gallons, that sort of thing. That is the usual sort of math people my age do, other than managing the bills. It’s the ordinary trimming down of a once larger food-prep empire.

However, on Friday, as I sat in the emergency room at the local trauma center, I found my bookkeeper brain doing a different sort of math. I had taken my car to be serviced at the Olympia Kia dealership. While walking from the ladies’ room, which was in a separate building, back to the service center, I tripped on a curb.

I suddenly found myself face down on the concrete, in incredible pain. For a few moments, I couldn’t move, but I finally managed to roll onto my back and then sit up.

Then I couldn’t see for the blood that flowed, obscuring my vision.

The fall smashed my glasses and opened a large gash, rearranging my right eyebrow and ringing my head like a bell. I also had several other not-so-good injuries. The people in the sales office rushed to my aid, staunching the gushing wound and calling 911.

I experienced a huge sense of mortality, feeling suddenly very old as I was placed on a gurney with the right half of my face bandaged. Wearing the cervical collar/neck brace felt like the human equivalent of wearing the canine cone of shame.

This experience will lend a bit more understanding as to how I approach writing my characters’ experiences of traumatic injuries.

I did, however, gain a deep understanding of why some folks call the Medic One wagon a “Rattlebones.” The streets here are a bit rough and travelling down the main drag while lying on your back rattles you, the gurney, and the wagon like maracas in a mariachi band.

The EMTs were both kind and supportive. When we arrived at the hospital, they stayed with me until I was booked into triage. After numerous tests, it was determined that I didn’t have a concussion, for which I am grateful.

Via Wikipedia: An emergency medical technician (often, more simply, EMT) is a medical professional who provides emergency medical services. EMTs are most commonly found serving on ambulances and in fire departments in the US and Canada, as full-time and some part-time departments require their firefighters to at least be EMT certified. [1]

I now have a lovely black eye, partly shielded by a white bandage protecting the stitches for a few more days, and a splint that supports my wrist but inhibits movement and makes typing a challenge.

Fortunately, I still had my old glasses. I can still see well enough to read if I use a magnifier, and the distance part of my bifocal lens is still good for driving. I will go to Costco and get another pair of glasses with my new prescription.

So, what sort of math was my confused brain doing in the ER?

  • 1 slight misstep for womankind = 1 ride on a gurney in the Thurston County Medic One van, aka the Rattlebones.
  • 1 cervical collar whether you need it or not.
  • 7 stitches in the right eyebrow, and
  • 1 sprained wrist in a splint (possibly fractured, won’t know for a week).

Add in the black eye, numerous bruises and contusions, eight hours in the ER, and the sum total is:

  • 1 completely deflated ego.

the author taking a picture of herself in a mirror, with bandage over eye and splint on right hand.Yes, technically, I am a senior citizen. But I’m only 72, which, given that most women in my family live well into their 90s, is middle-aged. Mama’s admonitions in my early childhood ring in my ears: “Pick up your feet when you walk and be careful to step up at curbs!”

I should know better.

I DO know better.

But all is not lost. The words are flowing, sort of, and I’m getting them down. I have plenty of microwavable meals and DoorDash to keep me fed.  Everything else that requires mobility/flexibility is doable with a bit of figuring it out.

I suspect I will be healed before I have it completely figured out. That’s the way it is when fate sends us on another spin the Blender of Life.

Credits and Attributions:

Image: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:EMTs loading a patient.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:EMTs_loading_a_patient.jpg&oldid=702262046 (accessed August 10, 2025).

[1]  Wikipedia contributors, “Emergency medical technician,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Emergency_medical_technician&oldid=1304690357 (accessed August 9, 2025).

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August 8, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a closer look at “The Bird Concert” by Jan Brueghel the Younger ca. 1640 – 45

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Artist: Jan Brueghel the Younger (1601–1678)

Title: the Bird Concert

Date: between circa 1640 and circa 1645

Medium: oil on copper

Dimensions: height: 13.2 cm (5.1 in); width: 17.9 cm (7 in)

Collection: Herzog Anton Ulrich Museum

Today we are taking a second look at one of my favorite paintings of the 17th century.

What I love about this painting:

This is one of my all-time favorite paintings. Jan Brueghel the Younger was a master who stood out in a dynasty of masters. The Brueghel family descended from Pieter Brueghel the Elder, and each generation left behind works that enchant us to this day.

I love this fantasy of birds, a renaissance view of what true harmony could be.

Brueghel gives us a joyous, surreal exploration of all the birds the artist had ever seen in his native Antwerp, and many rare birds that he could only imagine. He has gathered birds from all over the world into a mystical, fairytale glen, posing them around a songbook.

They are learning to sing a in a language they all can understand, a wonderful allegory of the aspirations of the artist for humanity in the turbulent times during which he lived.

This painting also celebrates the new discoveries made by European explorers, as Brueghel had only seen scientific drawings of many of these birds. Even though he hadn’t seen some of these birds personally, he paints them as if they are before him.

The amazing flock of birds gathered here gives us an insight into the mind and sense of humor of Jan Brueghel the Younger, a man not too different from us even though he lived over 300 years ago.

This composition must have been important to Brueghel and says something about him. He went to the expense of getting copper as the base upon which he painted this scene. He was comfortable but not rich, so that tells me he intended this painting to last, to be something he would be remembered for.

About the medium of Oil on Copper, via Wikipedia:

Oil on copper paintings were prevalent in the mid sixteenth century in Italy and Northern Europe. The use of copper as a substrate for an oil painting dates back to Medieval times. The Flemish masters and other artists including Jan Breughel the Elder, Claude, El Greco, Guido Reni, Guercino, Rembrandt, Carlo Saraceni, Ambrosius Bosschaert II, Copley Fielding and Vernet painted on copper. They favored copper for its smooth surface which allowed fine detail, and its durability. Copper is more durable than canvas or wood panel as a support for oil painting, as it will not rot, mildew or be eaten by insects. Contemporary painters also use copper as a base for paintings, some of them allowing the metal or patina to show through.

The old masters prepared the copper for painting first by rubbing it with fine pumice abrasive. The copper surface was then treated with garlic juice which is believed to improve adhesion of the paint. Finally a white or grey ground layer of oil paint was applied as a primer. After drying the copper panel was ready for the artist to begin painting. Later artists used the patina process, in which the copper is oxidized with the use of various acidic solutions, as part of the art work itself. The resulting patina or verdigris includes darkening of the metal, green and blue tones, depending on the chemical solution used. Patina is characterized by beautiful, variated patterns and textures which occur on the metal’s surface. [1]

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Jan Brueghel the Younger was born in Antwerp on 13 September 1601 as the son of Jan Brueghel the Elder and Isabella de Jode. His mother was the daughter of the cartographer, engraver and publisher Gerard de Jode. He trained and collaborated with his father in his workshop. His father was a friend and close collaborator of Peter Paul Rubens. Brueghel likely assisted with his father’s large-scale commissions.

On the wishes of his father, he traveled around 1622 to Milan where he was welcomed by Cardinal Federico Borromeo. The cardinal was a patron and friend of his father who had met in Rome about 30 years earlier. In what was likely an act of rebellion against his father, he went to Genoa where he stayed with his cousins, the Antwerp painters and art dealers Lucas de Wael and Cornelis de Wael. Their mother was a sister of Brueghel’s mother. At the time his friend and fellow Antwerp artist Anthony van Dyck was also active in Genoa. He later worked in Valletta on Malta in 1623. From 1624 to 1625 he also resided in Palermo on Sicily at the time when van Dyck was also working there.

Brueghel learned that his father had died on 13 January 1625 from cholera only after his return to Northern Italy in Turin. Wanting to return to Antwerp immediately, he had to delay his departure for 16 days due to a severe fever. After recovering from his illness, he set off for his homeland by way of France. In Paris he met the Antwerp art dealer and painter Peter Goetkint the Younger, who was the son of Peter Goetkint the Elder, the master of Jan’s father. Goetkint was eager to return to Antwerp because his wife was expected to deliver a baby soon. The child was born on 25 August, the day on which Breughel arrived in Antwerp with his traveling companion who himself died a few days later.

Brueghel took over the management of his father’s workshop, sold the finished works of his father and finished some of his father’s unfinished paintings. In the Guild year 1624-1625, Brueghel became a master painter of the Guild of Saint Luke of Antwerp.

In 1626 he married Anna Maria Janssens, daughter of Abraham Janssens, a prominent history painter in Antwerp. He continued to operate the large workshop of his father. He became dean of the Guild of Saint Luke in 1630. That same year he was commissioned by the French court to paint a series of paintings on the life of Adam. It seems that his studio declined after this period and that he started to paint smaller scale paintings which commanded lower prices than those produced earlier.

In later years, he worked independently in Paris in the 1650s and produced paintings for the Austrian court in 1651. He is recorded again in Antwerp in 1657 where he remained until his death. [2]

Credits and Attributions:

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Oil on copper,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Oil_on_copper&oldid=1060711380 (accessed JAug 7, 2025).

[2] Wikipedia contributors, “Jan Brueghel the Younger,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Jan_Brueghel_the_Younger&oldid=1086952033 (accessed Aug 7, 2025).

Image: The Bird Concert by Jan Brueghel the Younger ca. 1640 -1645, PD|100. Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Bruegel Vogelkonzert@Herzog Anton Ulrich Museum (1).JPG,” Wikimedia Commons, the free media

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August 4, 2025 · 6:00 am

#Writing in the Blender of Life

Technically, I am a full-time writer. For about ten years after I retired from corporate America, I had regular office hours for writing, and very little interfered with it. Nothing lasts forever, and once again, I am drawing on the habits I developed during my years as a hobbyist.

While I’m rarely in the right headspace to do a long stint of writing new words, I manage to fit short bursts of writing into my day, no matter what is on the calendar.

When I was still working, I sometimes wrote during breaks or at lunch. Other days, I was able to dedicate a block of time for writing by rising two hours before I had to depart for work. But waking up that early was tough, so I frequently wrote after the dishes were done and the house was clean. If I skipped watching TV, I could get a whole scene on paper.

Nowadays,  I arrange my writing time around whatever the calendar says is scheduled. I usually have all afternoon to devote to it, but some days are less productive than I wish. However, I always manage to get something done. Even though the advancement is slow, I’m creeping toward the finish line.

A happy life is all about balance, which is sometimes hard to find.

blended margarita drinkI’ve mentioned before that sometimes life is like a blended margarita. It’s a slurry of everything all at once, and here at Casa del Jasperson, things are usually in a whirl or at a dead halt. Sometimes finding my creative muse among the chaos is difficult, and other times it won’t be silent.

If you are a regular here at Life in the Realm of Fantasy, you know my husband is in the late stages of Parkinson’s. He is now in an Adult Family Home, and every morning I go to visit him. That is the one thing that happens every day without fail. All my appointments are scheduled around that morning visit.

Setting him up in a care facility was a difficult decision, as I felt caring for him was my job, my responsibility. But his decline has been exceedingly rapid. He is unable to stand without two people assisting him as he can’t transfer himself from wheelchair to bed, and is unable to reliably communicate his needs. He can no longer write, use his cellphone, or use the computer.

In May, I had to face the reality I had put off for as long as I could: my husband was no longer safe in our home. He had fallen twice and developed a blood clot in his left leg.

I had help from a Senior Living professional in finding the right place for him. We found a lovely home fifteen minutes away from my apartment, just down the road from the house I grew up in.

The home is owned and operated by two registered nurses, with two licensed CNAs (certified nursing assistants) on duty around the clock. He has his own room, the kind of food he likes, and company. Currently, there are only three residents, but the maximum capacity is six, with each resident having a private room.

They have daily activities, games, and physical therapy. Best of all is the lovely, peaceful deck where residents can take their wheelchairs to sit. He and I often sit out there absorbing the serenity of the back garden. The ongoing squabbles and dramas among the squirrels and many birds keep us both entertained.

So, things have settled into a routine here. I have more free time, which allows me to participate in my writing group and engage in write-ins with the larger writing community. I have time to mentor new authors and can enjoy the occasional lunch with friends.

walla walla onionsWriting posts for this blog and the community of friends I have found here has been the one constant during a stretch of time when everything felt out of control. The plot in our community garden has been a surprisingly relaxing hobby. I have harvested strawberries, tomatoes, and onions. In the next few days, celery will be on the menu.

The lone pumpkin plant is taking over the world, and I will get six or seven pumpkins when all is said and done. They should be small, as they are the sugar pie variety, but when I planted it, I had no idea how big a single pumpkin plant would get.

I am so grateful for the blessings, the good things that stand out sharply against the not-so-good in life. I can still be with my husband for part of the day, and I have the freedom to do a few things that I was unable to do before.

Life is different, but it’s still good.

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July 28, 2025 · 6:00 am

Constructing the short story – the Narrative Essay #writing

I talk a lot about the craft of writing, from novels to short stories, poems, and microfiction. Some might think that outside of journalism and blogging, there isn’t much left for an author to focus on. However, there is another area of writing that we’ve all heard of but don’t often think about. They are essays.

Narrative essays most frequently appear in magazines, so that is where to look for the best contemporary work by today’s authors of mainstream fiction.

  • And much of it is sitting around in waiting rooms the world over, so take a more critical look at the magazines the next time you go to the dentist.

Essays offer an author the opportunity to express ideas and values. Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592) was the first author to describe his work as essays, by which he meant attempts. He used the term to characterize these short pieces as “attempts” to put his thoughts into writing.

Narrative essays are drawn directly from real life, but they are fictionalized accounts. They detail an incident or event and talk about how the experience affected the author on a personal level.

One of my favorite narrative essays is 1994’s Ticket to the Fair (now titled “Getting Away from Already Being Pretty Much Away from It All“) by David Foster Wallace, published in Harper’s. I’ve talked about this particular piece before. It’s a humorous, eye-opening story of a naïve, slightly arrogant young journalist’s assignment to cover the 1993 Iowa State Fair, told in the first person.

Wallace assumed it would be a boring event featuring farm animals, which might be beneath him. But it was his first official assignment for Harpers, and he didn’t want to screw it up. What he found there, the people he met, their various crafts, and how they loved their lives profoundly altered his view of himself and his values.

As we find in Wallace’s piece, the primary purpose of an essay is thought-provoking content. The narrative essay conveys our ideas in a palatable form, so writing this kind of piece requires authors to think.

Some magazines are still available in print and can be found at many grocery stores and bookstores. However, don’t hesitate to submit to online publications, as many magazines have transitioned to publishing online rather than on paper nowadays. Legitimate online publishers pay the same royalties to their authors as those still publishing via paper do.

A narrative essay is just like any other form of short fiction. It has content and structure:

  • Introductory paragraphs that hook the reader.
  • An intriguing plot that keeps the reader interested.
  • Engaging characters.
  • An immersive setting.
  • An ending that satisfies the reader, but leaves them thinking about the story and what might have happened next..

Choose your words for impact because writing with intentional prose is critical. A good narrative essay expresses far more than mere opinion, more than simply relating an experience. Essays sometimes convey deep, uncomfortable views. The trick is to offer them in a way that the reader feels connected to the story. Once readers have that connection, they will see the merit of the opinions and viewpoints.

So, now we know that narrative essays are a way of sharing our personal views of the world, the places we visit, and the people we meet along the way.

  • Names should be changed, of course.

Literary magazines want well-written essays on a wide range of topics and life experiences presented with a fresh point of view. Authors can make their names by being published in a reputable magazine. You must pay strict attention to grammar and editing to have any chance of acceptance.

After you have finished the piece, set it aside for a week or two. Then, return to it with a yellow highlighter and a fresh eye. Print it out and read it out loud, checking for dropped and missing words. Read it aloud yourself, because in this case, I do NOT recommend the narrator function of your word processing program.

In the process of reading aloud, you will highlight the following bloopers:

  • Misspelled words, autocorrect errors, and homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled differently). These words are insidious because they are actual words and don’t immediately appear out of place.
  • Repeated words and cut-and-paste errors. These are sneaky and dreadfully difficult to spot. Spell-checker won’t always find them. When you read them silently, they make sense to you because you see what you think you wrote. For the reader, they appear as unusually garbled sentences, and you will stumble over them as you read aloud.
  • Missing punctuation and closed quotes. These things happen to the best of us.
  • Digits/Numbers: Miskeyed numbers are difficult to spot when they are wrong, unless they are spelled out.

Don’t be afraid to write with a wide vocabulary and use power words. Readers of these publications have a broad command of language. While they won’t want excessively flowery prose, they also don’t want to read a dumbed-down narrative.

  • However, we never use jargon or technical terms that are only known to people in certain professions, unless it is a piece for a publication catering to that segment of readers.

Above all, be a little bold. I enjoy works by authors who are adventurous in their work.

And finally, we must be realistic. Not everything you write will resonate with everyone you submit it to. Put two people in a room, hand them the most exciting thing you’ve ever read, and you’ll get two different opinions. They probably won’t agree with you.

Don’t be discouraged by rejection. I follow several well-known authors via social media because what they have to say about the industry is intriguing. They’re journalists who submit at least one piece weekly, hoping they will sell one or two a year. One says she aims for one hundred rejections a year because two or three stories or essays are bound to strike a chord with the right editor during that time.

Rejection happens far more frequently than acceptance, so don’t let fear of rejection keep you from writing pieces you’re emotionally invested in.

This is where you have the opportunity to cross the invisible line between amateur and professional. Always take the high ground—if an editor has sent you a detailed rejection, respond with a simple “thank you for your time.” If it’s a form letter rejection, don’t reply.

What should you do if your work is accepted but the editor wants a few revisions?

If the editor wants changes, they will make their requests clear. Editors know what their intended audience wants. Trust that the editor knows their business.

Make whatever changes they request.

Never be less than gracious to any of the people at a publication when you communicate with them, whether they are the senior editor or the newest intern. Be a team player and work with them.

And when you receive that email of acceptance, crack open the Bubbly (in my case, Sparkling Cider). Give yourself permission to celebrate having sold your work.

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July 21, 2025 · 6:00 am

Constructing the short story – the double circular story arc #writing

I love writing short stories because they offer me opportunities to experiment with both style and genre. It’s a challenge for a wordy writer like me to build a world in only a few words and still tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

In any story, the words we choose must do some heavy lifting. They must be strong and visual to show the setting, and when we combine them with a powerful theme, a few well-chosen words will convey atmosphere and mood.

Usually, I write my ideas in an outline form that becomes the first draft, but not always. Sometimes I write the story as it unfolds in my mind. Then, I take that very rough draft and turn it into an outline and rewrite it.

Let’s say I need to write a story for a contest or publication with a 2,000-word limit. Once I have the outline in shape, I will mentally divide the story into 3 acts. Act 1 must be told in 500 words. I will have 1,000 words to spend on Act 2, and finally, Act 3 will have to wrap things up in 500 words.

  • For any story, if you know the intended word count, you can divide the plot outline that way.

Knowing my intended word count helps me write a story, from drabbles to novels. This method works for stories with a traditional arc as well as those with a circular arc.

In a circular narrative, the story begins at point A, takes the protagonist through life-changing events, and brings them home, ending where it started. The starting and ending points are the same, and the characters return home, but they are fundamentally changed by the story’s events. The Hobbit is a tale with a circular story arc, as are many tales that follow the Hero’s Journey.

The infinity arc is similar but presents one story from two different viewpoints. The story begins with Character One, takes them through the events, and brings them back. At that point, the story shifts to Character Two and retells the events from their point of view, bringing them back to where they began. (Two circular story arcs joined by one event.) If we graphed it out, it would look something like an infinity sign, a figure-eight lying on its side: ∞

The story I’m using for today’s example is the Iron Dragon, which I wrote during NaNoWriMo 2015. That was the year I focused on experimental writing, putting out at least one short story every day and sometimes two. It’s the story of the web of time glitching and the perceptions of the characters who experienced it.

That year, a writing prompt I found on a writers’ website encouraged us to expand on the theme of dragons and use it to illustrate two aspects of a place. I chose to set my story in Wales, a country whose national symbol is the Red Dragon (Welsh: Y Ddraig Goch).

I am not Welsh, nor did we study Wales in school, so I had to go out and do some research. In the process, I learned a great deal and gained immense respect for a country I had known little about.

Once I had an idea of the two worlds I was building, I couldn’t resist setting two more goals to achieve.

  • I decided to experiment with the double circular story arc, seeing it as a way to tell one story as lived by two protagonists separated by twelve centuries and a multitude of legends.
  • I chose to use 1,000 words to tell both stories. I was not entirely successful, but I did keep it down to 1,025 words.

As I mentioned above, in the double circular arc, two characters are protagonists. Their stories begin at the same place, the center of the infinity symbol. They experience the event simultaneously but separately and arrive back at the same place. Both characters are tested and changed by what they have lived through. In some stories with this kind of story arc, the two characters never meet.

In the Iron Dragon, my characters physically don’t meet in person. However, they briefly occupy the same patch of ground during a glitch in the space-time continuum.

This story ends where it began, but with the two sets of characters having seemingly experienced two different events. Their perception of the meeting is colored by the knowledge and superstitions of their respective eras.

  • The first paragraph of the Iron Dragon begins in the middle of a story: the center of the infinity sign.

Those opening sentences establish the world, set the scene, and introduce the first protagonist.

  • The following three paragraphs show the situation and establish the mood. They also introduce the antagonist, which appears to be an immense iron dragon.

At this point, our first protagonist knows that he must resolve the problem and protect his people, which he does. 

But this is a story with two sides. Aeddan’s point of view is not the entire story.

  • Again, I had to set the scene and establish the mood and characters. Here, we meet the second protagonist, an engine driver named Owen. He has the same needs as Aeddan and also resolves the problem.

Neither character would have understood the strange physics of what just occurred had Brian Cox been around to explain it to them.

  • Each character’s understanding of what they saw and experienced is firmly based on the beliefs and lore of their era, and both do what they must to protect their people.
  • The final paragraphs wind it up. They also contribute to the overall atmosphere and setting of the second part of the story.

As a practice piece, the story had good bones. However, it’s not the right kind of story for submission to a magazine or contest, as it’s not a commercially viable piece.

The act of writing something different, a little outside my comfort zone, forces me to be more imaginative in how I tell my stories. We should all have a little fun with writing. Give that double circular arc a shot and see what you come up with.

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: The  Hero’s Journey, Public Domain. Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Heroesjourney.svg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Heroesjourney.svg&oldid=1013027507 (accessed July 20, 2025).

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July 14, 2025 · 6:00 am

Constructing the Short Story: theme #writing

I often find myself writing short pieces. These are scenes and mini stories that don’t really fit into a novel but are on my creative mind. Writing a short story gives me the chance to explore an idea that might be inspired by my longer work, but would muddy the waters if I included it there.

Many of my works are series, each set in a world of my creation. Writing short stories helps me develop that world. As a side benefit, it develops characters and plots I will definitely use later.

But what about stand-alone short stories? I usually submit them to contests, online magazines, and themed anthologies. The editor of the anthology ensures that each story she accepts explores an aspect of a single unifying theme.

And truthfully, having a theme to write to kickstarts my imagination.

According to Wikipedia:

A theme is not the same as the subject of a work. For example, the subject of Star Wars is ‘the battle for control of the galaxy between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance.’

The themes explored in the films might be “moral ambiguity” or “the conflict between technology and nature.” [1]

When we submit our manuscript to an editor with an open call for themed work, we must demonstrate our understanding of how the central theme can be manipulated to tell a story. Of course, engaging prose and a unique voice make a story stand out.

When you plan a story, analyze the theme. Look beyond the obvious tropes and find an original angle, and then go for it. As an author, most of my novels have been epic or medieval fantasy, based around the hero’s journey, detailing how their experiences shape the characters’ reactions and personal growth.

The hero’s journey is a theme that allows me to employ the sub-themes of brother/sisterhood and love of family.

Other layers of the story are strengthened when supported by a strong theme. Subtle use of allegory and imagery in set dressing can help strengthen the theme without beating the reader over the head.

In a story, the theme is introduced, either subtly or overtly, at the first plot point. If we’re writing a short story, this must happen on the first page. Most open calls for short stories require us to meet a specific word count. If so, lengthy lead-ins are not possible, as manuscripts that exceed the word count will be rejected.

I find it is easier to meet that wordcount when I know in advance how a story will end. I am a linear thinker, so I make an outline of my intended story arc.

  • I am an outliner, a planner, because when I “pants” it, I end up with a mushy plot that wanders all over the place and a story that isn’t commercially viable.

To create my outline, I divide my story arc into quarters. This ensures the critical events are in place at the right time. Then, I ask myself several questions about the story as I first imagine it. This will evolve, but it offers my creative mind a jumping off point.

  • What is the inciting incident? How does it relate to the theme?
  • What is the goal/objective? How does it relate to the theme?
  • At the beginning of the story, what does the hero want so badly that she will risk everything to acquire it? Why?
  • Who is the antagonist? What do they want and why?
  • What moral (or immoral) choice will our hero have to make? This is the real story, and how does it relate to the theme?
  • What is happening at the midpoint? Why does the antagonist have the upper hand?
  • At the ¾ point, my protagonist should have gathered her resources and be ready to face the antagonist. How can I choreograph that meeting?
  • How does the underlying theme affect every aspect of the protagonists’ evolution in this story?

I have mentioned before that in my own writing life, dumping too much background is my greatest first-draft challenge. Writing short stories has helped me find ways to write more concisely.

An outline keeps me on track. What is essential for the reader to know, and when should they learn it? What is just info for me to cut and save in the outtakes file?

Short stories follow a single event in a character’s life. Each word must advance that one story thread. Having your work beta read by your critique group will help you identify those places that need to be trimmed down.

I have close friends who see my work first and who help me see what the real story is before I bother my editor with it. My beta readers are published authors in my writing group.

Because I am a wordy writer, I have to keep in mind that (especially in a short story) every word is precious and must be used to the greatest effect. By shaving away the unneeded info in the short story, I can expand on the theme of the story and how it drives the plot.

Credits and Attributions:

Wikipedia contributors, ‘Theme (arts),’ Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Theme_(arts)&oldid=848540721(accessed July 12, 2025).

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July 7, 2025 · 6:00 am

Deciding the right chapter length #writing

I was recently asked what I think the right chapter length should be in a novel. We haven’t talked about this in a while, so today is as good a day as any.

I like it when an author considers the comfort of their readers. Many readers, including me, want to finish a chapter in one sitting. We rarely have the time to sit and read all day, no matter that we wish we could.

With that said, you must decide what your style is, and it will evolve as your writing career progresses.

Over the years, I’ve read and enjoyed many books where the authors made each scene a chapter, even if it was only two or three hundred words long. They ended up with over 100 chapters in their books, but because their story was so engaging, I barely noticed it.

In several seminars I’ve attended, the presenters suggested that we should have a specific word count limit for chapter length. One suggested 1500, while another said not more than 2500.

One of my favorite authors sometimes has chapters of only five or six hundred words, which keeps each character’s storyline separate and flows well. For my style of storytelling, 1,500 to 2,500 words is a good length.

As a reader, I have noticed that successful authors are careful to ensure that each chapter details the events of one scene or several closely related incidents. Chapters are like paragraphs in that cramming too many disparate ideas into one place makes the narrative feel erratic and disconnected.

My novel, Julian Lackland, has longer chapters. This is because the story arc details important events occurring over forty years of Julian’s life.

The novel follows the chronological order of his life, and the chapters detail the incidents that profoundly changed him. I inserted hard breaks within each chapter whenever a scene ended and a softer transition would have lent confusion to the narrative.

What is a soft transition? Conversations make good transitions to propel the story forward to the next scene. They also offer ways to end a chapter with a tidbit of information that will compel the reader to turn the page. Information is crucial, so we want to provide it when the protagonist and the reader require it.

Fade-to-black and hard scene breaks: I only use fade-to-black transitions as a finish to a chapter, as they leave the reader with something to think about.

Time must be considered too. When a real chunk of time has passed between the end of one scene and the beginning of the next, I suggest giving the scene a firm finish with a hook. That leads the reader to continue on to the next chapter.

With each scene, we push all the main characters forward and raise the stakes for each of them a little more. The action and dissemination of information entertain the reader. Good transitions allow the reader to reflect and absorb the information gained before moving on to the next scene.

This brings me to how the narrative point of view can influence the length of a scene or chapter. Some editors suggest you change chapters, no matter how short, when you switch to a different character’s point of view.

I (somewhat) agree with this stance, as a hard transition when you switch narrator-characters is the best way to avoid head-hopping and subsequent confusion.

But what is head-hopping? When you change the narrative point-of-view in the same scene, one paragraph to the next with no definite separation, you create a “viewpoint tennis match.”

First, you’re in Character A’s head hearing her thoughts, then you’re in Character B’s head hearing his. Then you’re back in A’s head. It becomes challenging to know who is speaking or thinking.

Also, the characters tend to lose their individuality. They begin to sound the same, further muddying the scene.

That is not to say that you should never switch viewpoints within a chapter. Sometimes, more than one character has a perspective that needs to be shown. However, readers will find it easier to follow the narrative if you are careful with how you handle the change of narrator.

One of the problems some readers have with Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time Series is the way he wanders between storylines as if he couldn’t decide who the main character is. Rand al’Thor begins as the protagonist, but the narrative soon wanders far away from him as Matrim, Perrin, Nynaeve, Elayne, Aviendha, and Egwene are given prime storylines. Each thread comes together in the end, but this is the main criticism of the series.

I’m a dedicated WoT fan, but even I found that exceedingly annoying by the time we reached book eight, Path of Daggers. I was halfway through reading that book when I realized there was a good chance that we would never see Rand do what he was reborn to do.

I try to concentrate on developing a single compelling, well-rounded main character, with the side characters well-developed but not upstaging the star. I kept reading the entire WoT series because Jordan’s (and later Sanderson’s) writing was brilliant, and the world and the events were intriguing.

It’s easier for the reader to follow the story when they are confined to one character’s perspective for the majority of the narrative. If you choose to switch POV characters, I suggest using a hard, visual break, such as two blank spaces between paragraphs or ending the chapter.

Now we come to a commonly asked question: Should I use numbers, or give each chapter a name?

What is your gut feeling for how you want to construct this book or series? If snappy titles pop up in your mind for each chapter, by all means, go for it. Otherwise, numbered chapters are perfectly fine and don’t throw the reader out of the book. Whichever style of chapter heading you choose, be consistent and stay with that choice for the entire book.

To wind this up: Limit your point of view characters to one per scene. Each chapter should detail events that are related, rather than a jumble of unrelated happenings.

When it comes to chapter length, you must make the decision as to the right length and end chapters at a logical place. But do end each chapter with a hook that entices the reader to continue reading.

 

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