All writers begin as readers. As we read, we see an arc to the overall novel. It starts with exposition, where we introduce our characters and their situation. Then, we get to the rising action, where complications for the protagonist are introduced. The middle section is the action’s high point, the narrative’s turning point.
After we survive the middle crisis, we have falling action. We receive the crucial information, the characters regroup, and we experience the unfolding of events leading to the conclusion. The protagonist’s problems are resolved, and we (the readers) are offered a good ending and closure.
I think of scenes as micro-stories. Each one forms an arch of rising action followed by a conclusion, creating a stable structure that will support the overall arc of the plot. In my mind, novels are like Gothic Cathedrals–small arches built of stone supporting other arches until you have a structure that can withstand the centuries. Each scene is a tiny arc that supports and strengthens the construct that is our plot.
Each scene has a job and must lead to the next. If we do it right, the novel will succeed.
The key difference in the arc of the scene vs. the overall arc of the novel is this: the end of the scene is the platform from which your next scene launches. Each scene begins at a slightly higher point on the novel’s plot arc than the previous scene, pushing the narrative toward its ultimate conclusion.
These small arcs of action, reaction, and calm push the plot and ensure it doesn’t stall. Each scene is an opportunity to ratchet up the tension and increase the overall conflict that drives the story.
My writing style in the first stages is more like creating an extensive and detailed outline. I lay down the skeleton of the tale, fleshing out what I can as I go. But there are significant gaps in this early draft of the narrative.
So, once the first draft is finished, I flesh out the story with visuals and action. Those are things I can’t focus on in the first draft, but I do insert notes to myself, such as:
- Fend off the attack here.
- Contrast tranquil scenery with turbulent emotions here.
My first drafts are always rough, more like a series of events and conversations than a novel. I will stitch it all together in the second draft and fill in the plot holes.
So, how do I link these disparate scenes together? Conversations and internal dialogs make good transitions, propelling the story forward to the next scene. A conversation can give the reader perspective if there is no silent witness (an omniscient presence). This view is needed to understand the reason for events.
Transition scenes must also have an arc supporting the cathedral that is our novel. They will begin, rise to a peak as the necessary information is discussed, and ebb when the characters move on.
Transition scenes inform the reader and the characters, offering knowledge we all must know to understand the forthcoming action.
A certain amount of context can arrive through internal monologue. However, I have two problems with long mental conversations:
- If you choose to use italics to show characters’ thoughts, be aware that long sections of leaning letters are challenging to read, so keep them brief.
- Internal dialogue is frequently a thinly veiled cover for an info dump.
An example of this is a novel I recently waited nearly a year for, written by a pair of writers whose work I have enjoyed over the years. I was seriously disappointed by it.
The protagonist’s mental ramblings comprise the first two-thirds of the novel. Fortunately, the authors didn’t use italics for the main character’s mental blather.
This exhausting mental rant contained very little critical knowledge. Ninety percent of what the man ruminated on was fluff—it was all background covered in the broader series and didn’t push the story forward. At the midpoint, I considered not finishing the book.
Plots are driven by an imbalance of power. The dark corners of the story are illuminated by the characters who have critical knowledge. This is called asymmetric information.
The characters must work with a limited understanding of the situation because asymmetric information creates tension. A lack of knowledge creates a crisis.
It’s tempting to waffle on but a conversation scene should be driven by the fact that one person has knowledge the others need. Idle conversations can be had anywhere, and readers don’t want to read about them. Characters should discuss things that advance the plot in such a way that they illuminate their personality.
The reader must get answers at the same time as the other characters, gradually over the length of a novel.
I struggle with this, too. Dispersing small but necessary bits of info at the right moment is tricky because I know it all and must fight the urge to share it too early. Hopefully, all these bumps will have been smoothed out by the end of my second draft.
When we write a story, no matter the length, we hope the narrative will keep our readers interested until the end of the book. We lure readers into the scene and reward them with a tiny dose of new information.
I have no idea whether the novel I’m working on today will be an engaging story for a reader or not. But I’m enjoying writing it.
And that is what writing should be about: writing the story you want to read.
If you have been a computer user for any length of time, you know that hardware failure, virus attacks by hackers, and other computer disasters will happen. They’re like the 
This year, I met a young man who, being new to using a word processing program, forgot how he named his 2022 manuscript. He couldn’t find it when he decided to start writing again. I showed him how to search for files by date, taught him how to name documents, and taught him how to create a master file for all the files generated in the process of writing his book.
I work out of Dropbox, so when I save and close a document, my work is automatically saved and backed up to 
One thing I hear from new writers is how surprised they are at how easily something that should be simple can veer out of control. The worst thing that can happen to an author is accidentally saving an old file over the top of your new file or deleting the file entirely.
I make a separate subfolder for my work when it’s in the editing process. That subfolder contains two subfolders, and one is for the chapters my editor sends me in their raw state with all her comments:
We are at the same latitude as Paris, Zurich, and Montreal but usually get a lot more rain than those cities. The North Pacific can be wild at this time of the year, which makes for some great storm-watching.
By the time the authors got to the meat of the matter (which was late in the second half) I no longer cared. Truthfully, when the fluff is carved away from this book, you might have 20,000 or so words of an interesting story—a novella.
I’m planning two volumes because one will feature stories set in the world of Neveyah, and the other will be random speculative short fiction pieces.
I have talked about this novella many times, as I consider it one of the most enduring stories in Western literature. The opening act of this tale is a masterclass in how to structure a story.
“Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.”
As I mentioned before, this book is only a novella. It was comprised of 66 handwritten pages. Some people think they aren’t “a real author” if they don’t write a 900-page doorstop, but Dickens says differently.
To meet Alfredo, Grandma, and Sylvia Wannamaker, Dan’s next adventure, The Elevator Pitch, is 
I have planned the menu for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but a few things still need some forethought if I want those gatherings to go well. We’ve been invited to a New Year’s Eve potluck. I’m torn between making an avocado-cucumber-tomato salad or stuffed mushrooms—both are easy.
No more tape in my hair, no more naughty words, and no more hunting for the scissors I just had in my hands.
This is my recipe for the most delicious ONION AND MUSHROOM GRAVY:
1 bag bread cubes for stuffing, or 10 cups 1/2 inch bread cubes from 1 large loaf of day-old wheat or other sandwich bread. Sometimes I bake my own bread, sometimes not.
That timeless story was written in 1843 as a serialized novella. It has inspired a landslide of adaptations in both movies and books and remains one of the most beloved tales of redemption in the Western canon.
I wish he could have seen how beloved his creation is now, one hundred and eighty years later.
Charles Dickens showed us that charity and generosity to those less fortunate must become a year-round emotion. Our local community is a good place to start.
However, this year, I am experiencing something I haven’t before—the post-NaNoWriMo slump. My creativity levels are low, and my words seem reluctant to join the party. I know many authors who suffer through this, but since I began this journey in 2010, I have never experienced it.
My first drafts tend to be ugly. The story emerges from my imagination and falls onto the paper (or keyboard), warts and all. Each first draft I can write “the end” on is a hot mess of repetitions, awkward phrasing, and cut-and-paste errors. I set them aside when they’re complete and often forget I’ve written them.
Then, I turn to the last paragraph on the story’s final page and cover the rest of the page with a sheet of paper. I begin reading again, starting with the ending paragraph, working my way forward, and making notes in the margins.
It works the same way for novels. I print out each chapter and go through the steps I described above. Then, I make the revisions in a new file labeled with the date and the word “revised.”
You can get fancy and use a dedicated writer’s program like 
But we’d prefer the snow to stay in the mountains where it belongs. Something about the slightest dusting sends the Pacific Northwest into a panic.
BBC: From memoir and self-care books to comic novels, writing about our flaws and imperfections has never been so popular. But can failing ever be a success? Lindsay Baker explores this question. Read the story here: 
Also from Publishers Weekly: A confident mood prevailed among independent booksellers over this November holiday sales weekend. (…) Sales data from 
That question is a good place to start, but it is only the surface layer of the pond.
It is a conversation scene, driven by the fact that each person in the meeting has knowledge the others need. Conversations are good when they deploy necessary information. Remember, plot points are driven by the characters who have critical knowledge.
Information/Revelation: The Council of Elrond conveys information to both the protagonists and readers. It is a conversation scene, driven by the fact that each person in the meeting has knowledge the others need. Plot points are propelled by the characters who have critical knowledge. Again, limited information creates tension.
The movie portrays this scene differently, with Pip and Merry hiding in the shadows. Also, in the book, the decision about who will accompany Frodo, other than Sam, is not made for several days, while the movie shortens it to one day.
Life in the Realm of Fantasy 