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Mind-wandering and the Creative Process #amwriting

Mind-wandering … daydreaming … sitting around, and doing nothing, thereby annoying family members with agendas of their own. It’s an activity that is looked down upon because it represents idleness in a society that demands productivity. We have a culture that celebrates doing, achieving, producing, and succeeding.

My Writing LifeWhen observed by others, a person who is daydreaming appears lazy. Mind-wandering has no obvious purpose, but it is critical for creativity. Every groundbreaking discovery in science, every great invention we enjoy today—all were inspired by ideas that came to a person while thinking about something else or when they were mind-wandering.

Taking the time to sit and think about nothing in particular has everything to do with the nature and genesis of storytelling.

The ability to explain the world through stories and allegory emerges strongly in some people. Many are naturally able to form and express a story, even when discretion would be better. I can create a string of BS like no one else at the drop of a hat:

256px-Skillet_cornbread_(cropped)My oldest daughter, looking at our dinner, a casserole of beans with cornbread baked on top like a cobbler: “What the heck is that?”

Me, ever the smartass: “It’s stewed Yeti in gravy with a sweet cornbread topping. Try it. I think you’ll like it.”

Daughter: “Why can’t we have normal food, like normal people?” Takes a bite. “Mom. This tastes like the beans we had last night, except you added cornbread. You said the beans were jackalope nuggets.”

Me: “Did I say that? Sorry. I meant Yeti. I get the two confused.”

Daughter: “I’ll just have salad.”

Me: “Great choice. I made the ranch dressing with …”

Daughter: “Oh, God. Here it comes.”

Me: “… lion’s milk, since we’re out of buttermilk.”

Other people need the subliminal prompting of an image to spark their creativity. If you’ve visited here at Life in the Realm of Fantasy on a Friday, you know how much I love looking at and talking about art.

I’m not educated as an art historian, and I hope I don’t come off as pretending to be one. But I love the paintings of great artists because they tell a story. I like to research great art and the artists who created it. I love to share the images I come across and hopefully give others like me access to see the art that humanity is capable of, good and bad.

gear-brain-clip-art-smallPerception is in the eye of the beholder. Observation and thought are seeds that inspire extrapolation, leading the viewer to come away with new ideas. When I see the story captured in a single scene by an artist, my mind always surmises more than the painting shows. I see the picture as depicting the middle of the story and imagine what came before and what happened next. Unintentionally, I put a personal spin on my interpretation, and ideas are born. I don’t mean to, but everyone does.

Wikipedia tells us this about that: In mathematicsextrapolation is a type of estimation, beyond the original observation range, of the value of a variable on the basis of its relationship with another variable. It is similar to interpolation, which produces estimates between known observations, but extrapolation is subject to greater uncertainty and a higher risk of producing meaningless results. [1]

In real life, extrapolation is the act of an idea emerging from an idea, creating a chain of ideas that coalesce and form an assumption. That assumption generates more ideas, and the “thought party” roars on. This is how great novels begin.

 Anthony Jack, a cognitive scientist at Case Western Reserve University in Ohio, says, “How we daydream and think depends on the brain’s structure. …(That) structure is constantly changing in small ways—as we learn new things the connections between nerve cells change.” (Read “Beyond the Brain” in National Geographic magazine.) [2]

We have long known that creative people are often guilty of mind-wandering. Researchers have shown that daydreaming makes you more creative. The mental conversation occurs when the daydreaming mind cycles through different parts of the brain and taps into the subconscious mind, bringing up information we had but were unaware of. The daydreaming mind connects bits of information we’ve never considered in that particular way.

According to a study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, a wandering mind can impart a distinct cognitive advantage. [3]

mindwanderingLIRF02212023This means that daydreaming is actually good for you. It boosts the brain, making our thought process more effective. Letting the mind wander allows a kind of ‘default neural network’ to engage when our brain is at wakeful rest, as in meditation, rather than actively focusing on the outside world. When we daydream, our brains can process tasks more effectively.

This is good to know because, as an author, I spend an astounding amount of time daydreaming, and I would hate to be simply wasting time!

Meditating on a tone, a pattern, or an image is a time-honored means of expanding one’s mind. Meditating or daydreaming turns off parts of your brain. Our brain has an analytic part that makes reasoned decisions and an empathetic part that allows us to relate to others.

Researchers have found when a person daydreams, their mind naturally cycles through different modes of thinking, analytic and empathetic. During this time, your brain’s rational and sympathetic parts tend to turn each other off, which is why this habit is crucial to creativity.

Creative people are often guilty of mind-wandering, but researchers have shown that daydreaming makes you more creative.

magicYou could be watching the birds, as my husband and I often do. Or maybe you’re perusing the display in a local art gallery or listening to music. I love all genres of music, but for writing I often find inspiration in powerhouse classical pieces such as Orff’s cantata, Carmina Burana, or Nobuo Uematsu‘s soundtracks to the Final Fantasy game franchise.

Whatever you choose to meditate on doesn’t matter. The act of mind-wandering generates ideas.

Let your mind wander. That feeling of stress will lessen, and soon, you may have an idea for a novel, a painting, or music.


Credits and Attributions:

Cornbread, Zankopedia, CC BY-SA 3.0 Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Skillet cornbread (cropped).jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Skillet_cornbread_(cropped).jpg&oldid=449104554 (accessed June 24, 2023).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Extrapolation,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Extrapolation&oldid=1144519982 (accessed June 24, 2023).

[2] Beyond the Brain by James Shreeve, Cognitive Function Article, Neuroscience Information, Mapping Brain Facts — National Geographic Copyright © 1996-2015 National Geographic SocietyCopyright © 2015-2023 National Geographic Partners, LLC. All rights reserved (accessed June 24, 2023)

[3] Where do our minds wander? Brain waves can point the way (medicalxpress.com) by Yasmin Anwar, University of California – Berkeley (accessed June 24, 2023)

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My Writing Life – #amwriting on the road

Once again Greg and I are at the beautiful Alderbrook Resort and Spa. He is here for a conference, and I am here as driver and for my wit and charm (not). We have the room for one night but of course the weather was cold and rainy when we arrived yesterday, so I didn’t get out for much of a hike. I did spend a great deal of time in the coffee bar, artfully labeled the Drinkery.

MyWritingLife2021Today, however, I plan a long walk along the beach.

One of the great things about writing in a different environment is how it jumpstarts my creative mind. I find it easy to write in coffee shops.

So, what am I working on?

I’m beta-reading a book of short stories for a friend and enjoying it a lot. These stories are set during the Vietnam War era and are quite interesting to me. I knew many people who were very like the characters in his stories.

Also, I am still trying to plot the final act of a duology that has been in the works for far too long. When that fails, I go back to working on the outline for November’s NaNoWriMo book, and both tasks are oozing along reluctantly.

On the fun side of things, I’m preparing for an in-person book selling event on July 1st at Olympia’s Pride Festival. I haven’t done an in-person event since before the pandemic. The best part of this is I will be with three other authors, Judy Kiehart, Ellen King Rice, and Johanna Flynn.

One of the questions prospective buyers always ask (and I hate) is, “What is your book about?”

My mind goes blank, and my mental response is “I don’t know” but since that won’t sell a book, I struggle to explain the core of my books in only a sentence or two. So, while I’m here at Alderbrook Resort, I’m working on my spiels. My goal is to make them short, concise (and hopefully) interesting.

Identifying the core plot device around which my narrative revolves is important.

Who or what is the book about?

I can sell either the idea of the book or the main character. Once I choose what to sell, main character or idea, I must stick to that. If I choose the character, I will use only the protagonist in the description, and forget the others, because it is that character’s story that I’m trying to sell.

Keep the spiel short. It’s easy to be long-winded and rambling about my work but I’ll only have about 60 seconds to sell that book.

ICountMyself-FriendsI have no trouble selling my friends’ books – I’ve read them all and love them, and love selling them. Maybe I can sell their books because I’m not emotionally invested in their creation, but I am invested as a reader.

But back to this lovely resort—a place that is conducive to creativity. Greg and I were here at Alderbrook last year, and as a vegan, I found the food was both delightful and unusual. The food this year has been outstanding, created with care and attention. If you’re curious, here’s the link to my post from a year ago, #RoadTrip! The Resort, The Vegan, and June-uary #amwriting.

(June-uary is what we call a normal June around here because it will be cold, overcast, and rainy, like a slightly warmer January without the snow.) We like cold gray and rainy Junes here in the Great Northwest, because July, August, and September tend to be hot and dry. The summer drought normally starts on July 5th, but since today is warm and partly sunny, 74 degrees (23 Celsius), and weather models for the foreseeable future look the same or warmer, the annual dry spell may be starting early this year.

I’ve enjoyed our brief stay here at Alderbrook Inn. The view of Hood Canal is fabulous, the grounds here are beautiful, and the peace of this place is soothing. I’ve gotten some good work done.

We’re still unpacking at our new apartment. I’m not sure where some things are, but gradually our new home is shaping up. I like the ambiance of my new office. I think a lot of new plot twists are just waiting to emerge from my subconscious and complicate things.

Lucky Coffee CupNext week on this blog we will talk about the creative process and the importance of mind-wandering. We’ll also talk about why it is important to beta read for your fellow writers, and how to be a good reader, one who gives positive feedback and offers constructive suggestions.

In the meantime, happy writing!

 

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Pacing part 2 – plotting the midpoint #amwriting

As I said in my previous post, Foreshadowing and the Strong Opening, I am writing the first draft of a new novel. I am filling in and altering the outline as I go. This means that nothing is canon, and many plot points, even major ones, will have changed by the time I am ready to publish this mess.

Words-And-How-We-Use-ThemSome novels are character-driven, others are event-driven, but all follow an arc. I’m a poet, and while I read in every genre, I seek out literary fantasy, novels with a character-driven plot. These are works by authors like Naomi Novik,  Tad Williams, and Patrick Rothfuss. These writers spend time crafting every aspect of their novels. For that reason, they cannot churn a new book out every year or even every two years.

Literary fantasy is a subgenre whose novels appeal to dedicated and determined readers. The authors spend time crafting prose that reflects a deep and often dark storyline, so if you prefer easily-digested fantasy, this is not for you. Complex themes play with and sometimes warp the expected fantasy tropes.

This subgenre focuses on the characters and how they are changed by their circumstances. Plot elements take place in a richly developed fantasy world. However, both setting and events are not the point of the story—they only frame and enable a character’s evolution.

hyperboleAnd the prose … words with impact, words combined with other words, set down in such a way that I feel silly even thinking I can write such works. Thankfully, my editor weeds out pretentious hyperbole and slaps me back to reality.

I am working on the first draft of a character-driven novel, trying to get the plot out of my head and noting events in the outline as I go. I have the first quarter nailed down reasonably well.

The midpoint of a novel is the longest section. It covers the second and third quarters of the book’s overall word count. In this section, emotions intensify, and the action does too. From this point on, the forces driving the plot are a train on a downhill run, picking up speed, and there is no stopping it or turning back now. The characters continue to be put to the test, and subplots kick into gear.

From the midpoint to the final plot point, pacing is critical.

And this is where I struggle as a writer.

These events tear the heroes down. They must break them emotionally and physically so that in the book’s final quarter, they can be rebuilt, stronger, and ready to face the enemy on equal terms.

As you approach the midpoint of the story arc, personal growth begins to drive the plot.

In the story I am plotting, two of the protagonists lose faith in themselves. One has a crisis of conscience, which is the result of the inciting incident. The other carries on doing what hasn’t worked in the past. Both have heavy burdens of guilt that must be shed.

Each must learn to live with who they are rather than who they wish to be.

Other characters know bits of the history behind these two, but no one knows everything. In this section, information must gradually emerge, showing the reader why they react the way they do. In the process, the four will learn to work together, setting aside their insecurities. By the final act, they must be hardened, able to function as a team, and determined to finish the task.

Book- onstruction-sign copyThis part of the novel is often difficult for me to get right. The protagonist must be put through a personal crisis. Their inner world must be shaken to the foundations.

But what is the lynchpin of this disaster?

It must be a logical outcome of events to that moment. My editor must be able to say, “Yes, that’s how it would happen.”

So now I need a terrible event. At this point in laying down the story, I don’t know what it is, but somehow, the protagonists have suffered a severe loss.

  • How are they emotionally destroyed by the events?
  • How was their own weakness responsible for the bad outcome?
  • How does this cause the protagonist to question everything they once believed in?
  • What gives them the courage to keep on going?
  • How does this personal death and rebirth event change them?

The midpoint is crucial because the truth underlying the conflict now emerges. As we approach the final act, the enemy’s weaknesses become apparent. My protagonists will overcome their crises and exploit those flaws—I just don’t know how yet.

I do know part of the plot. I have plans for the midpoint’s second half, an event where the protagonists must make hard decisions. They will scrape up the courage to do what must be done.

I haven’t discussed the enemy much, but I haven’t neglected them. They have had their day in the sun, and to my protagonists, it looks like the opponent has won. But even so, our heroes will reach into the depths of their souls and do what must be done, make that final effort.

plotting as a family picnicThis emotional low point is necessary for our characters’ personal arcs. It is the place where they are forced to face their weaknesses and rebuild themselves. They must discover they are stronger than they ever knew.

At this point in the novel, if I have done it right, my editor (who is also my first reader) will be worried, hoping everyone can hold it together long enough to overcome the hardships.

Fingers crossed, and with a fully fleshed-out outline at hand, it might happen. My writing group is a resource I will turn to as the plot progresses. They will kindly keep me from going off the rails, and that is a blessing.


Other posts in this series:

Pacing part one: foreshadowing and the strong opening #amwriting | Life in the Realm of Fantasy (conniejjasperson.com)

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Pacing part one: foreshadowing and the strong opening #amwriting

I’ve been struggling to find the place where the narrative of my new novel actually begins. Is it the day of his divorce? Is it the day of his brother’s death? Or is it the day he is released from the care of the healers after his breakdown?

MyWritingLife2021BAnd what of my female protagonist? Where does her story begin?

And the other pair—the ones that really need their own book but aren’t going to get it. What about them?

At this point, all I have is a mountain of backstory. It’s important because it tells me who my people are the day the novel begins.

It doesn’t need to be the opening chapter.

Every story begins with an opening act. The characters are introduced, and the scene is set. These paragraphs establish the tone of what is to follow, and if I have gotten my phrasing and pacing right, they will hook the reader.

This is where pacing comes into it. The intended impact of the book can and should be established in the first pages—but it takes work. I am writing a first draft right now, so most of what I write is a code telling me what I need to know when I get to the revision process.

I have introduced the setting. Where are the characters? Well, in this case, it’s easy. They are in the World of Neveyah, and fortunately for me, the world, the society, and the magic systems are already built. Some things are canon, which forces me to be creative and work within those limits.

Finally, I must introduce the conflict. What does the protagonist want? What hinders them?

My female protagonist must learn to live with her limits and trust her team. She must learn to delegate.

While she is doing that, my male protagonist must move beyond what he has lost and learn to appreciate what he still has.

My other female lead must be the friend the protagonist needs and make a choice between her career as a soldier or choosing to leave and raise a family.

Conversely, the other male lead must emerge from his father’s domination and choose to make his career as an artisan.

Not only that, but I must use my words in such a way that my readers don’t want to put the book down.

Novels are built the same way as a Gothic cathedral. Small arcs support other arcs in layers, creating an intricate structure that rises high and withstands all that nature can throw at it for the centuries to come.

Like our cathedral, the strength of a novel’s story arc depends on the foundation you lay in the book’s first quarter.

Plot-exists-to-reveal-characterI must introduce a story-worthy problem in those pages, a test propelling the protagonist to the middle of the book. The opening paragraphs are vital. They are the hook, the introduction to my voice, and must offer a reason for the reader to continue past the first page.

So, I must find where that story really begins, and trust me, it isn’t with a mental breakdown. The story begins with each character arriving at their new duty stations, each with a history that makes them who they are that day. Their pasts are known to others and do come out, but only when the other characters and the reader needs it.

I find pacing is the most challenging part of writing a first draft. Eighty percent of my writing will not make it into the final manuscript.

But it will be available in a file labeled ‘backstory’ for me to access when needed. I note names and relationships in my stylesheet and outline as I go.

One character is dark and brooding. I won’t explain why at the outset, as his backstory must emerge gradually, each morsel emerging when my female character must know. My side characters have an easier path, but their task is to provide information when required and to assist in the surface quest—catching a murderer.

With the back history in a separate file, I must open the novel with my characters in place. A  question must be raised, or I must introduce the inciting incident. This sets the four on the trail of the answer, throwing them into the action.

It’s too easy to frontload the opening pages with a wall of backstory. We always think, “Before you learn this, you must know that.”

All of that is true, but the history belongs in a separate file. I learned this the hard way—long lead-ins don’t hook the reader.

If my characters don’t need to hear the history of the Caverns of Despair, it’s likely that the readers also don’t care. The name is a pretty descriptive indicator of what lies ahead, so the twelve paragraphs detailing how the caves got their name are probably unnecessary.

The_Pyramid_Conflict_Tension_PacingMy favorite books open with a minor conflict, evolving to a series of more significant problems, working up to the first pinch point, where the characters are set on the path to their destiny.

I will open with a strong scene, an arc of action that

  • illuminates the characters’ motives,
  • allows the reader to learn things as the protagonist does, and
  • offers clues regarding things the characters do not know that will affect the plot.
  • The end of one scene is the launching pad for the next scene, propelling the story arc.

The clues I offer at the beginning are foreshadowing. Through the book’s first half, foreshadowing is important, as it piques the reader’s interest and makes them want to know how the book will end.

In the opening paragraphs, I will focus on the protagonists and hint at their problems. Subplots, if there are any, will be introduced after the inciting incident has taken place. They must relate to that incident in some way.

If you introduce side quests too soon, they are distracting. They make for a haphazard story arc if they don’t relate to the central quest. I think side quests work best if they are presented once the book’s tone and the central crisis have been established. Good subplots are excellent ways of introducing the emotional part of the story.

Even if I were to open the story by dropping my characters into the middle of an event, I’d need a pivotal event at the 1/4 mark that completely rocks their world. The event that changes everything is the core of the story.

Following the inciting incident is the second act: more action occurs, leading to more trouble and rising to a severe crisis.

I know how long I plan the book to be. I will take that word count and divide it by 4. I place the first significant event in the first quarter, presenting it after I introduce the characters. The following two quarters form the second act, the middle. If I have plotted well, the middle of the story arc should fall into place like dominoes.

We’ll talk about that in my next post.

storyArcLIRF10032021

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Layers of Depth: the uneven distribution of information

Plot points and conflicts are driven by the characters who have critical knowledge. The fact that some characters are working with limited information creates tension.

WritingCraftSeries_depth-through-conversationIn literary terms, this uneven distribution of knowledge is called asymmetric information. We see this all the time in the corporate world.

  • One party in a business transaction has more or superior information compared to another.
  • That inequality of information gives them an edge against the competition.

In a story, as in real life, a monopoly of information creates a crisis. An idle conversation will bore your reader to tears, so only discuss things that advance the plot. A conversation scene should be driven by the fact that one person has knowledge the others need.

The reader must get answers simultaneously as the characters, gradually over the length of a novel.

When I am writing a scene, I ask my characters three things:

The first question I ask is: “What is the core of the problem?” In the case of one story that was begun several years ago and never taken beyond the first draft stage, the core of the problem is Jared, my main character. The story is set in the World of Neveyah, and one of the canon tropes of stories set in that world is that all mages are trained by and work for the Temple of Aeos.

The_Pyramid_Conflict_Tension_PacingJared is hilarious, charming, naïve, a bit cocky, and completely unaware that he’s an arrogant jackass. He is a young man who is exceptionally good at everything and is happy to tell you about it. Jared has no clue that his boasting holds him back, as no one wants to work with him.

This boy is both the protagonist and the antagonist of this story.

The second question I ask is: “What do the characters want most?” Jared is a mage, and as such, he is a member of the Clergy of Aeos. He wants to be just like his childhood hero, or better. Jared needs approval and admiration to bolster his sense of self-worth. Everything he does is an effort to be seen as worthy.

Unfortunately, the leaders of the Temple of Aeos have plenty of heroes on hand and just want a mage who can be relied upon to get a job done well and with no fanfare.

The third question I ask my characters is this: “What are they willing to do to get it?” Jared has boasted many times that he will meet and overcome any obstacle, no matter how difficult the path to success is.

His mentors like him, but despair of his ever succeeding as a mage. They devise a simple (and on the surface) heroic seeming quest tailored to improve his attitude. They layer it with dirty and disgusting obstacles that he hasn’t planned for. Jared meets and works his way through these roadblocks one by one. His mentors ensure that when he does “rescue the kid,” he gets their message quite clearly. This is where the asymmetric information comes into play. Jared’s innocent assumptions make for a wonderfully wicked plot arc.

How will Jared’s story end? It ends in a satisfying mess with all the acclaim the young hero could ask for—along with a large serving of humble pie. But nothing can keep Jared down for long—he takes that embarrassment and embraces it with his own personal flair.

Epic Fails meme2When I started writing this story, I had the core conflict: Jared’s misguided desire to be important. I had the surface quest: rescuing the kidnapped kid. I had the true quest: Jared learning to laugh at himself and developing a little humility.

I had all the pieces and the completed first draft, but other projects had more priority. Then the pandemic hit, and this story was shelved.

Now, with all the hustle and bustle of moving to a new home, I need something short and sweet to work on for relaxation, and I came across Jared’s story. It needs serious revisions, but it’s one of my favorite Neveyah stories, as it is not dark as they usually are. Jared’s tale of woe is full of gallows humor, detailing the deeds of a hero who becomes a man.

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Layers of Depth: getting a grip on narrative time

Narrative time and calendar time are separate entities. They are team members working on the same project but with different tasks. Point of view and narrative time work together to create an author’s voice.

calendarCalendar time is a layer of world-building. It sets the story in a particular era and shows the passage of time.

Narrative time is the grammatical placement of the story’s time frame in the past or the present, i.e., present tense (we go) or past tense (we went).

Narrative time works with point of view to shape the reader’s perception of a scene’s atmosphere and ambiance.

Once the reader passes the first page or two of a novel, a reader becomes used to the way the author has chosen to deliver the story. Narrative time and point of view fade into the background, becoming a subtle layer that goes unnoticed on a conscious level.

How does narrative time relate to “past” or “present” tense?

In grammartense is a word referencing time. Tenses are usually shown by how we use the forms of verbs, particularly in their conjugation patterns. The main tenses found in most languages include the pastpresent, and future.

We create depth by combining narrative time with two closely related components of a story:

  • Narrative point of view (or the perspective) is a personal or impersonal “lens” through which a story is communicated.
  • Narrative voice, or how a story is communicated, is an author’s fingerprint. Narrative voice or style arises from the words we choose and how we combine them. It is formed by our deeply held beliefs and attitudes. We may or may not consciously intend to do it, but our convictions emerge in our writing, shaping character and plot arcs.

The way that narrative tense affects a reader’s perception of the characters is subtle, an undercurrent that goes unnoticed after the first few paragraphs. It shapes the reader’s view of events on a subliminal level.

Every story is different and requires us to use a unique narrative time. Tense conveys information about time. It relates the time of an event (when) to another time (now or then). The tense you choose indicates the event’s location in time.

Verb ConjugationConsider the following sentences: “I eat,” “I am eating,” “I have eaten,” and “I have been eating.”

All are in the present tense, indicated by the present-tense verb of each sentence (eatam, and have).

Yet, they are different because each conveys slightly different information (or points of view) about how the action pertains to the present moment.

I regularly “think aloud” in writing the first draft. When writing by the seat of my pants, passive phrasings find their way into the raw narrative. I think of these words as traffic signals for when I begin revisions.  a shorthand that helps me write the story before I lose my train of thought.

  • In the rewrite, we look for the code words (passive phrasing) that tell us what the scene should be rewritten to show.

Many writers avoid the third person omniscient mode because it takes more work to make the prose active. But some stories work best in that mode.

Which sentence feels stronger, more pressing? Each sentence says the same thing, but we get a different story when we change the narrative tense, point of view, and verb choice.

  • He was hot and thirsty. (Third-person omniscient, past tense, passive phrasing.)
  • Henry trudged forward, his lips dry and cracked, yearning for a drop of water. (Third-person omniscient, past tense, active phrasing.)
  • struggle toward the oasis with dry, cracked lips and parched tongue. (First-person present tense, Active phrasing.)
  • You stagger toward the oasis, dizzy with thirst. (Second-person, present tense, active phrasing.)

The way we show this moment in time for these thirsty characters is important. If we write a sentence that says a character is hot and thirsty, we leave nothing to the reader’s imagination. The reader is on the outside, looking in. When we write that experience of thirst using active phrasing, no matter what narrative tense we write in, it changes everything.

Sometimes the only way I can get into a character’s head is to write them in the first-person present tense. This is because the narrative time I am trying to convey is the now of that story. (This happens to me most often when writing short stories.)

In traditional first-person POV, the protagonist is the narrator. We must remember that no one ever has complete knowledge of anything, so the first-person narrator cannot be omnipotent.

transitive verb damon suede quoteEvery story is unique; some work best in the past tense, while others must be set in the present.

WARNING: When we begin writing a story using a narrative time unfamiliar to us, we may have trouble with drifting tense and wandering narrative points of view.

Drifting narrative tense and wandering POV are insidious. Either or both can occur if you habitually write using one mode but switch to another. For this reason, I must be vigilant when I begin in the first-person present tense but then switch to close third person.

For this reason, when you begin revisions, it’s crucial to look at your verb forms to ensure your narrative time doesn’t inadvertently drift between past and present.

So, where does voice come into it?

The way you habitually phrase sentences, how you construct paragraphs, the words you choose, and the narrative time you prefer to write in is your voice.

Summer is nearly upon us here in the Pacific Northwest. Packing and moving is going better than I thought it would. Time for writing is hit and miss this week, but by the second week of June, we will be settled in our new digs, and writing will be back on track. Life is good!

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Layers of Depth – using the world you know #amwriting

If you have been following my blog, you might know my husband and I are selling our home of eighteen years and moving back to the town we both grew up in. Currently, we live in a small quarry town twenty miles south of the state capitol. It is historic and small. But it is a vibrant town, creative and open to entrepreneurs, and has a close-knit community.

MyWritingLife2021If I were writing a story starring me as the main character, I would open it in the year 2005 with a couple of empty-nesters buying a house in a bedroom community twenty miles south of Olympia.

But what sort of town is this?

Tenino (Teh-nine-oh) is situated at the southern edge of Thurston County. Many people working for the State of Washington live here because the commute isn’t too bad and homes here are affordable, whereas homes in Olympia are expensive. This town has a long history of boom and bust; quarrymen, loggers, and farmers settled here, and they are still hanging on. But government employees don’t earn as much as private sector employees, and they can afford to buy homes here. So, the demographic is slowly changing.

Timber is no longer king here. Nowadays, our town is famous for Wolf Haven Internationalsandstone art, crafted whiskey, and award-winning wine. We still have a few large cattle ranches out on the Violet Prairie, between Tenino and Interstate 5. But 5-to-7-acre executive “horse properties,” antique stores, cheese makers offering goat yoga, and soap-making classes have found fertile ground here.

In the early 20th century, bootlegging was an industry here (my maternal grandfather’s line of work during prohibition). The distilleries here are the legal continuation of an old tradition.

Only_in_TeninoThe city center is isolated, twelve miles from the freeway and twenty miles away from every other town in the south county. If a fictional story were set in this town, it would feature the same political and religious schisms that divide the rest of our country. There are other tensions. Some families have been here for generations, and a few don’t appreciate the influx of low-paid state workers buying cookie-cutter tract homes (like mine) here.

Other than those employed by the local businesses, most people commute to work in Olympia or Centralia.

My street is a stretch of rough blacktop with no sidewalks. Most of the driveways, including ours, are paved. Our street runs east and west, with a fabulous view of Mount Rainier rising at the east end.

Homes line our street on both sides, but it’s visually divided. A nicely landscaped manufactured home park is on the north side of the road, across from my front door. On the south side, my side, a long row of forty stick-built homes was tossed up in 2005, just before the housing bubble crashed.

And I do mean tossed up. Some things that went into building these houses were bottom-of-the-barrel bargains, cheap toilets, cheaper water heaters, and improperly installed bathtubs—all things that failed and were replaced over the last eighteen years.

The row of homes on my side is nearly identical to each other, as there are only two types of floor plans, one for three bedrooms (mine) or the four-bedroom version. People have made their homes as unique as possible. For a few years, we had the only house with an orange door, but now our door is white, as we had to replace it and never got around to painting it.

Orange_Door_with_Hydrangeas_©_Connie_Jasperson_2019Two inches of rain fell the day we moved into our brand-new home in 2005, making moving our furniture into this house a misery. Our new house had no landscaping and rose from a sea of mud and rocks. With a lot of effort, we made a pleasant yard. When the housing bubble burst in 2008, many people on my side of the street lost their jobs, and some homes went into foreclosure.

Flippers found a wealth of projects here. For several years, wherever there were two or more empty houses, it looked somewhat like a ghost town.

That has changed. Now we are bustling, people walking up and down the street to and from the store.

Tenino has one grocery store, which also has a hardware store inside. The market carries the basics, but the quality of their fresh produce can be iffy. You really have to check the pull dates on things like eggs, hummus, and cottage cheese. It’s far more affordable to shop in Olympia.

However, the meat department sources beef from a local ranch. Their meat department smokes their own ribs and other cuts. Carnivores love this place because the wind carries the smoky aroma all over the neighborhood.

Even Tenino is changing with the times, with more hybrid cars in the parking lots. A large wind farm graces the top of the hills south of here. The store has always carried tofu but has lately begun carrying some plant-based sources of protein and dairy-free ice cream. That discovery was a Hallelujah moment for those of us with milk sensitivity!

Violet Prairie in MayOur main street, Sussex, passes through a historic district. The buildings are all built from sandstone quarried at the old quarries. Many of the old buildings are home to antique stores. The masonic lodge is made of Tenino sandstone.

It’s a slice of rural America with a Northwest twist, a quiet town that is the perfect setting for a paranormal fantasy or a murder mystery.

What about my immediate environment? In the morning, birdsong fills the air. Robins, wrens, finches, hummingbirds, crows, Stellar’s jays, mourning doves – the neighborhood borders Scatter Creek and is alive with birds.

During the day, I can hear the children playing at the school. In the evening, the neighborhood is filled with the sounds of kids playing in each other’s yards.

Highway 507 passes through the center of town, becoming Sussex Street. The sounds of traffic, from semi-trucks to sirens, occasionally vie with the horns from freight trains passing at the west end of town.

Even so, it’s a quiet place, a good place to live.

We’re sad to leave here, but it’s the right thing to do. We have rented an apartment and will be completely resettled by the middle of June. Our new home is in a terrific neighborhood, with easy access to shops and restaurants. It will be intriguing to rediscover the world we left behind and to see how it has changed since we left there.

The setting of your story is a multipurpose layer embedded in the depths, and is itself comprised of layers: sounds, scents, and visual details. It shows the immediate area and conveys your characters’ society, political climate, and economic class. These aspects are subtle, yet they’re as fundamental to the story as the blood in your veins. And like that blood, we only notice it when something draws our attention to it—which usually happens at inconvenient moments.

As an exercise, visualize your own community and write a word picture of it as if you were telling me about it. Then imagine the community your characters live in and write a word picture of how they would describe their world. Feel free to post your word-pictures in the comments!

Free-Range Pansies photo credit cjjap copy

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Layers of depth: The use and abuse of modifiers #amwriting

Depth in a narrative is created by many layers. One layer we must look at involves prose, words we use, and how we phrase things. The way we use modifiers and descriptors plays a significant role in how our work is received by a reader.

depthPart1revisionsLIRF05252021In writing, we add depth and contour to our prose by how we choose and use our words. We “paint” a scene using words to show what the point-of-view character is seeing or experiencing. Yes, we do need to use some modifiers and descriptors.

Modifiers are like any other medicine: a small dose can cure illnesses. A large dose will kill the patient. The best use of them is to find words that convey the most information with the most force.

When we refer to modifiers, what do we mean?

Any word that modifies (alters, changes, transforms) the meaning and intent of another word is a modifier. Modifiers change, clarify, qualify, or limit a particular word in a sentence to add emphasis, explanation, or detail.

We also use them as conjunctions to connect thoughts: “otherwise,” “then,” and “besides.”

What are descriptors? Adverbs and adjectives, known as descriptors, are helper nouns or verbs—words that help describe other words. They are easily overused, so these words are often reviled by authors armed with a little dangerous knowledge.

What is a quantifier? They are nouns (or noun phrases) meant to convey a vague number or an abstract impression, such as: very, a great deal ofa good deal ofa lot, many, much. The important word there is abstract, which I think of as a thought or idea describing something without physical or concrete existence.

modifying-conjunctions-04262022One of the cautions those of us new to the craft frequently hear are criticisms about the number of modifiers (adjectives and adverbs) we habitually use. This can hurt, especially if we don’t understand what the members of our writing group are trying to tell us.

Perhaps the number of modifiers isn’t the problem, but the forms we use fluff up our narrative.

Perhaps you have been told you use too many “ly” words or descriptors. Examine the context. Have you used the word “actually” in a conversation? You may want to keep it, as dialogue must sound natural, and people use that word when speaking.

However, if you have used “actually” to describe an object, check to see if it is necessary. Is the sentence stronger without it?

  • The tree was actually covered in red leaves.
  • Red leaves covered the tree.

Many descriptors are easy to spot, often ending with “ly.” When I begin revising a first draft, I do a global search for the letters “ly.” A list will pop up in my lefthand margin. My manuscript will become a mass of yellow highlighted words.

  • “ly” words are code words – a kind of mental shorthand in a first draft. In the revision process, they tell us what we need to expand on to fully explore the scene as we originally envisioned.

It’s a daunting task, but I look at each instance and see how they fit into that context. If a word or phrase weakens the narrative, I change it to a simpler form or remove it and rewrite the sentence.

Think about it – bare is an adjective, as is barely.

Context is everything. Take the time to look at each example of the offending words and change them individually. You have already spent months writing that novel. Why not take a few days to do the job well?

Sentence structure matters. Where you place an adjective relative to the noun they are describing affects a reader’s perception. Adjectives work best when showing us what the point-of-view characters see, hear, smell, touch, and taste.

Sunlight glared over the ice, a cold fire in the sky that cast no warmth but burned the eyes.

Timid WordsIn the above sentence, the essential parts are structured this way: noun – verb (sunlight glared), adjective – noun (cold fire), verb – adjective – noun (cast no warmth), and finally, verb-article-noun (burned the eyes). Lead with the action or noun, follow with a strong modifier, and the sentence conveys what is intended but isn’t weakened by the modifiers.

The above scene could be shown in many ways, but a paragraph’s worth of world-building is pared down to 19 words, three of which are action words. This is an area I struggle with, and it occupies most of my attention during revisions.

Shakespeare understood the beauty and the power that contrasting modifiers can add to ordinary prose without making it artificial. Consider this line from his play, As You Like It, written in 1599:

It strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. As You Like It, Wm. Shakespeare, 1599.

What brilliant imagery Shakespeare handed us—strong words with powerful meaning: dead, great, reckoning, little. His prose moves us as we read or hear it spoken because he uses words with visual impact.

Most writers know that participating in a critique group requires delicacy and dedication. They know it involves restraint and the ability to allow other authors to write their own work. Most groups don’t micromanage a manuscript because they know how too much input and direction can remove the author’s unique voice from a piece.

These are dedicated people who love reading and want your work to succeed.

As writers, we all want to be accepted and have others like our work, but we must write from the heart. That means using modifiers, descriptors, or quantifiers when they are needed. It’s a balancing act. We must be mindful of the form and the context of how a modifier fits into our phrasing.

The following image is a list of code-words I seek out and re-examine when I begin revising a first draft. Each word points me in the right direction. All I have to do is rephrase that sentence with stronger forms of the “ly” word.

List of common adverbs

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Layers of Depth: Mood and Emotion #amwriting

Readers and authors often use the word mood interchangeably with atmosphere when describing a scene or passage. Like conjoined twins, mood and atmosphere march along together—separate but intertwined so closely that they seem as one.

mood-emotions-2-LIRF09152020Mood is long-term, a feeling residing in the background, going almost unnoticed. Mood affects (and is affected by) the emotions evoked within the story.

Atmosphere is also long-term but is sometimes more noticeable as it is a worldbuilding component. Atmosphere is the aspect of mood that setting conveys.

Emotion is immediate and short-term. It exists in the foreground but contributes to the overall atmosphere and mood.

In his book, Story, Robert McKee tells us that emotion is the experience of transition, of the characters moving between a positive and negative. “Story” by Robert McKee,

Much of my information comes from seminar videos on the craft of writing found on YouTube and posted by Robert McKee. He is an excellent teacher, and his textbook is a core component of my personal library. A wonderful 6-minute lesson on the difference between mood and emotion can be found at:

Robert McKee, Q&A: What Is the Difference Between Mood and Emotion?

While emotions are immediate, they can be subtle. I look for books where emotions are dynamic, because that is when the character’s internal struggle becomes personal to me.

Mood is a large word serving several purposes. It is created by the setting (atmosphere), the exchanges of dialogue (conversation), and the tone of the narrative (word choices, descriptions). It is also affected by (and refers to) the emotional state of the characters—their personal mood.

Mood-and-atmosphere-LIRF04302023Undermotivated emotions lack credibility and leave the reader feeling as if the story is flat. In real life, we have deep, personal reasons for our feelings, and so must our characters.

A woman shoots another woman. Why? Add in the factor of her child having been accidentally killed by the woman she murders, and you have high emotion and high drama. Therefore, just as in real life, the root cause for a character’s emotions is a fundamental motivation for their actions.

Which is more important, mood or emotion? Both and neither. Characters’ emotions affect the overall mood of a story. In turn, the atmosphere of a particular environment may affect the characters’ personal mood. Their individual attitudes affect the emotional state of the group.

Because emotion is the experience of transition from the negative to the positive and back again, emotion changes a character’s values, and they either grow or stagnate. This is part of the inferential layer, as the audience must infer (deduce) the experience. You can’t tell a reader how to feel. They must experience and understand (infer) what drives the character on a human level.

What is mood? Wikipedia says:

In literature, mood is the atmosphere of the narrative. Mood is created by means of setting (locale and surroundings in which the narrative takes place), attitude (of the narrator and of the characters in the narrative), and descriptions. Though atmosphere and setting are connected, they may be considered separately to a degree. Atmosphere is the aura of mood that surrounds the story. It is to fiction what the sensory level is to poetry.[1] Mood is established in order to affect the reader emotionally and psychologically and to provide a feeling for the narrative.

What is atmosphere? It is created by our word choices and is intangible, but it affects how the reader perceives the story. The setting contributes to the atmosphere, so it is a component of worldbuilding. But we should note that the setting is only a place; it is not atmosphere. Atmosphere comes into play when we place certain visual elements into the scenery with the intention of creating a mood in the reader.

  • Tumbleweeds rolling across a barren desert.
  • Waves crashing against cliffs.
  • Dirty dishes resting beside the sink.
  • A chill breeze wafting through a broken window.

Atmosphere is created as much by odors, scents, ambient sounds, and visuals as by the characters’ moods and emotions. It is a component of the environment but is also an ambiance because it is intentional.

We build atmosphere into a setting with the aim of creating a specific frame of mind or emotion in the reader.

I love it when an author drops me into an atmosphere that colors their world and shapes the characters’ moods.

So, now we know that atmosphere is environmental, separate but connected to the general emotional mood of a piece. From the story’s first paragraph, we want to establish a feeling of atmosphere, the general mood that will hint at what is to come.

storybyrobertmckeeRobert McKee tells us that the mood/dynamic of any story is there to make the emotional experience of our characters specific. It makes their emotions feel natural. After all, the mood and atmosphere Emily Brontë instilled into the setting of Wuthering Heights make the depictions of mental and physical cruelty seem like they would happen there.

Happy, sad, neutral—atmosphere and mood lend a flavor to the emotions our characters experience, giving them emphasis and making them real to the reader.

For me, as a writer, the inferential layer of a story is complicated. Creating a world-on-paper requires thought even when we live in that world. We know how the atmosphere and mood of our neighborhood feel when we walk to the store. But try conveying that mood and atmosphere in a letter to a friend – it’s harder than it looks.

Next up: a closer examination of emotions and why showing is so much more difficult (and sometimes dangerous) than telling.


Credits and Attributions:

Wikipedia contributors, “Mood (literature),” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Mood_(literature)&oldid=1147399122 (accessed April 30, 2023).

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How Writing Advice can be both Good and Bad #amwriting

Authors who are just starting out need to learn the craft. We humans find it easy to remember simple sayings, little proverbs, if you will.

My Writing LifeThe commonly bandied proverbs of writing are meant to encourage us to write lean, descriptive prose and craft engaging conversations. These sayings exist because the craft of writing involves learning the rules of grammar, developing a broader vocabulary, developing characters, building worlds, etc., etc.

The truth is, we can’t know everything about the craft just by learning a few common proverbs. They help, but we could spend a lifetime studying the craft and never learn all there is to know about the subject.

Taken too seriously, simple mantras of writing advice are dangerous. This is because they can be taken to extremes by novice authors armed with little actual knowledge. An author with too rigid a view of these sayings will not be a good reviewer or beta reader. They won’t be able to see beyond the rules that imprison them and limit their creative existence.

  • Remove all adverbs.

This advice is complete crap. Use common sense, and don’t use unnecessary adverbs.

  • Don’t use speech tags.

What? Who said that, and why are there no speech tags in this drivel?

  • Show, Don’t Tell. Don’t Ever Don’t do it!

Nothing is more ordinary than a story where a person’s facial expressions take center stage, hollow displays of emotion with no substance. Lips stretch into smiles, but the musculature of the face is only a part of the signals that reveal the character’s interior emotions.

Flaubert on writing LORF07252022Then, there are the stories where the author leans too heavily on the internal. Creased foreheads are replaced with stomach-churning, gut-wrenching shock or wide-eyed trembling of hands.

And don’t forget the recurring moments of weak-kneed nausea.

For me, the most challenging part of writing the final draft of any novel is balancing the visual indicators of emotion with the more profound, internal clues.

  • Write what you know.

Please, use your imagination. Did Tolkien actually go to Middle Earth and visit a volcano? No, but he did serve in WWI and lived and worked in Oxford, which is not notable for abounding in elves, hobbits, or orcs.

So yes, Tolkien understood senseless conflicts and total warfare—because he had experienced it. His books detail his view of the utter devastation of war but are set in a fantasy environment. Your life experiences shape your writing, but your imagination is the story’s fuel and source.

  • If you’re bored with your story, your reader will be too.

That’s not true. You have spent months immersed in that story, years even. You know it inside and out, but your reader doesn’t.

Commonly discussed writing proverbs go on and on.

  • Kill your darlings.

Jack Kerouak on writing LIRF07252022Indeed, we shouldn’t be married to our favorite prose or characters. Sometimes we must cut a paragraph, a chapter, or even a character we love because it no longer fits the story. But have a care – people read for pleasure. Perhaps that phrase does belong there. Maybe that arrangement of words really was the best part of that paragraph.

  • Cut all exposition.

A story must be about the characters, the conflict, and the resolution. So, why are we in this handbasket? And where are we going? If we’re plucked from our comfy lives and dropped into the Handbasket to Hell, we want to know why.

The timing of when we insert the exposition into the narrative is crucial. The reader needs to know what the characters know. But they only require that knowledge at the moment it becomes necessary. The reader wants to understand the narrative but doesn’t want information dumped on them.

Bad advice is good advice taken to an extreme. The internet and social media allow us to make connections with other writers from all over the world. We gather in virtual groups and share what we have learned about the craft. Some of us become evangelical, born-again believers that the words of those great writers who have gone before us are the only truths we need to know.

While that isn’t so, we must remember that all writing advice has roots in truth.

  • Overuse of adverbs fluffs up the prose and ruins the taste of an author’s work.
  • Too many speech tags, especially odd and bizarre ones, can stop the eye. When the characters are snorting, hissing, and ejaculating their dialogue, I will put the book down and never pick it up again. My favorite authors seem to stick to common tags like said and replied.
  • Too much telling takes the adventure out of the reading experience. Too much showing is tedious and can be disgusting. It takes effort to find that happy medium, but writing is work.
  • Know what you are writing about. Research your subject and, if necessary, interview people in that profession. Readers often know more than you do about certain things.

proverbs definition wikipediaHandy, commonly debated mantras become engraved in stone because proverbs are how we educate ourselves. Unless an author is fortunate enough to have a formal education in the subject, we must rely on the internet and handy self-help guides to learn the many nuances of the writing craft.

That is what I have done. I buy books about the craft of writing modern, 21st-century genre fiction and rely on the advice offered by the literary giants of the past. I seek a rounded view of crafting prose and look for other tools that I can use to improve my writing. I think this makes me a better, more informed reader. (My ego speaking.)

But sometimes online writer’s forums are a little – shall we say dicey? We come into contact with people armed with a bit of knowledge, a large ego, and a loud voice. Be careful, and don’t share your work with any group until you have seen how they treat each other.

Some writers are fearful of what others might say. They bludgeon their work to death, desperately trying to fit it into narratives defined by absolute limits.

In the process, every bit of creativity is shaved off the corners, and a story with immense potential becomes boring and difficult to read. As an avid reader and reviewer, I see this all too often.

I study the craft of writing because I love it, and I apply the proverbs and rules of advice gently. Whether my work is good or bad—I don’t know. But I write the stories I want to read, so I am writing for a niche audience of one: me.

However, I read two or three books a week. I love books where the authors clearly know the rules but break them when necessary.

So, my friends—go forth, and write. Now, more than ever, the world needs more novels.

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