Tag Archives: writing

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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June 30, 2025 · 6:00 am

A few of the many things I wish I had known about #writing

I have always thought of myself as a writer. During the 1970s and into the early 1990s, my pen and ink ramblings were poems and random scenes that contained ideas that later evolved into full-fledged short stories.

My typewriter sat beside the hamster cage in the corner of the kitchen (a poor placement choice). While my kids did homework, I pecked away at short stories.

Eventually, I acquired a secondhand computer and began writing a novel. Five years and 225,000 words later, I had a rambling mess on my hands that would never be finished.

I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t figure out how to end it, and it was filled with grammar and punctuation errors. I had no idea how to make it look professional, as I had never heard of “industry standards.” My enthusiasm exceeded my knowledge and ability, and I didn’t know how to rectify the problem.

In 1990, a book that would change my life was featured in the Science Fiction Book Club catalog: “How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy” by Orson Scott Card. The day that book arrived in my mailbox was the day I embarked on my quest to learn everything I could about the craft of writing.

I’m still learning. Since acquiring that book, I have amassed a library on the craft. Some are brilliant, while others are not, but I always learn something.

Diving into the deep end of writing contests and seeking a publisher can be both scary and wonderful. Every experience, good and bad, educates you just a little more. What follows are a few things I wish I had known in 2010 when I was directed to the (now defunct) organization that was NaNoWriMo. and began this journey in earnest.

One: Make a style sheet (also known as a storyboard or bible) as you go.

Build a glossary of words and spellings unique to your story and be sure to list names. I use an Excel spreadsheet, but you can use any tool you like to help you stay consistent with your spelling.

And even though I work at developing a thorough glossary, my editor will find many words to add to it.

Two: Nothing hurts worse than completely losing an entire manuscript. Develop a logical, consistent system for naming your files. Save your document regularly and back up your files to an external thumb drive or to the cloud.

Save each version of your manuscript in its own master file, and give each subfile a different name so you can go back and retrieve bits you may need later. I use a system like this:

  • The master file might be titled: Lauras_Story
  • The subfile might be L_S_V5.docx

That stands for Laura’s Story version five. I work out of Word, so the extension is automatically a docx. Each master file will contain many subfiles before a story or book is published.

Three: Find a local group of writers to meet with and talk about the craft.

Authors need to network with other authors because we need to discuss the craft with someone whose eyes don’t glaze over.

I found a fantastic local group by attending write-ins for NaNoWriMo. The Tuesday Morning Rebel Writers have my back, and I have theirs. Since the pandemic, and with several of our members now on the opposite side of Washington State, we meet weekly via Zoom. We are a group of authors who write in a wide variety of genres.

Yes, we help each other bring new books into the world through beta reading and critiquing. But more than that, we are good, close friends who support each other through life’s twists and turns.

Four: Never stop educating yourself. It requires dedication and a small investment of money, but you can do it.

Learn how to say what you mean with your unique voice and style. A college education may be out of reach, but you can buy books on grammar, style, substance, and writing craft.

Learn about structure and pacing from successful authors. Spend the money to attend conventions and seminars. You will learn so much about the craft of writing, the genre you write in, and the publishing industry as a whole. These are things you can only learn from other authors.

Five: Don’t even consider signing with the slick-talking publisher that contacts you out of the blue.

In 2010, I made my word count and became a firm believer in the principle that was behind the founding concept of NaNoWriMo. If you sit down and write at least 1,667 words every day, you will complete the first draft of your novel in 30 days. If you have a community of like-minded authors to encourage you, you are more likely to succeed. That is what NaNoWriMo was originally intended to be, as Chris Baty envisioned.

I didn’t know that while a novel might have the complete story arc, it isn’t finished.

Here is where experience can be a painful teacher. The year that followed was filled with serious mistakes and naïve bungling.

Legitimate publishers NEVER contact you. You must submit your work to them, and they prefer to work with agented authors. I didn’t know this. I placed my book in the hands of someone who was not qualified to publish. 2011 was filled with low points, ending with a devastating falling out with my publisher. Fortunately, I retained the rights to my work.

Authors are perfect targets for predators. Be smart. Ask yourself how a publisher could possibly want work they haven’t seen? And why should you pay them for “editing” or any other aspect of publishing? And how did they get your email address?

Make use of SFWA’s Writer Beware site. Predator publishers profit from our deep desire to be published. They will charge you for services they don’t provide and publish your work in its raw, unedited form, and you will never see a dime.

Six: even though you’re writing that novel, keep writing short stories, too.

Short stories and micro-fiction are a training ground, a way to hone your skills. Submitting your work to magazines, anthologies, and contests is the best way to get it published. Each story that gets published increases your visibility, and you develop a reputation as a reliable author. I suggest building a backlog of work ranging from 100 to 5,000 words in length. Keep them ready to submit whenever magazines, anthologies, or contests announce a call for submissions.

Remember, every scene and vignette that rolls through your head can be made into something you can use.

Get the Submittable App and start submitting your work, and don’t let rejections stop you. Keep sending that work to new places because someone will want it.

Seven: Never Stop Reading. I say this all the time. Read widely and in all genres. Read critically and apply what you learn about writing, both good and bad, to your work.

These are a few of the many things that I wish I had known when I first started writing professionally but didn’t.

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June 23, 2025 · 6:00 am

Employing contrast in the architecture of a story #writing

There is a quote from the Buddha that I have found especially true for creating a great story. “There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.”

J.R.R. Tolkien understood this quite clearly. His work was written in a highly literate style that everyone understood a century ago. Reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy requires commitment, and today, fewer readers are willing to undertake it.

Tolkien employs contrasts throughout the length of his stories. He shows the peace and prosperity that Frodo enjoys and then asks him to choose his destiny. Frodo chooses the difficult path. Tolkien takes the hobbit and all the central characters through many personal changes. He forces them to face their fears, gives them reasons to continue, to not give up.

Frodo’s story is about good and evil, war and peace, and the hardships endured in the effort to destroy the One Ring and negate the power of Sauron. So why would ordinary middle-class hobbits living comfortable lives go to so much trouble if Sauron’s evil posed no threat to their peace and prosperity?

They do it because they can see that in the long run, Sauron’s orcs would overrun the Shire and destroy everything good and beautiful.

Lengthwise, the three books aren’t as long as people make them out to be, especially when compared to Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson’s long and winding 15-book Wheel of Time series (comprised of 4,410,036 words) or Tad Williams’ epic and highly literate Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series (comprised of 1,121,720 words).

Tolkien’s trilogy totals only 455,175 words, which is considered an optimal length for a debut series in the epic fantasy genre. Fans of epic fantasy like and expect long books with large stories.

Whenever I talk about what we can learn from Tolkien, someone will respond that Tolkien wrote in a style that 21st-century readers find frustrating. Certainly, he used more words than a modern writer would dare to. A 21st century writer would face the slings and arrows of the modern critique group.

But while his style is more wordy than modern taste, his work is still compelling. He still has plenty to say that can resonate with us. In the process, he takes us on a journey with side quests and an epic, wonderful ending that was somehow left out of the movies – the Scouring of the Shire.

Hint: Yes, reading the books requires persistence, but if you want the real story and don’t have the time or patience, the audiobooks, as narrated by Andy Serkis (who played the role of Gollum in the movies), are a must-listen.

With the Ballantine Books paperback edition in 1965, J.R.R. Tolkien brought epic fantasy to my generation of college students. In the 1970’s, in my college town, the graffiti in downtown Olympia read “Frodo Lives.”  Frodo Lives! – Wikipedia

But how did Tolkien’s style of storytelling influence the genre as we know it today? For that, we take a look at Tad Williams’s masterpiece, The Dragonbone Chair. It’s the first book in the fantasy series Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. It was published in 1988 and hooked me.

Williams takes the fourteen-year-old Simon, a kitchen boy, and Miriamele, a princess, and gives them an epic quest. He brings them together and then forces them down separate paths that eventually rejoin. Along the way, they grow into adulthood, and what they learn about themselves is both bitter and wonderful.

I read The Dragonbone Chair when it first came out in paperback. I loved it so much, I had to re-read it immediately upon finishing.

In both the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, we have two of the most enduring works of modern fantasy fiction. Both feature an epic central quest and side quests, all of which must be completed for the protagonists to arrive at the final resolution.

In both series, we have moments of joy and contentment sharply contrasted with events causing terrible deprivation and loss. Each event urges us to keep reading, inspiring the deepest emotions and the desire to find out what happens next.

This use of contrast is fundamental to the fables and sagas that humans have been telling since before the discovery of fire. Contrast is why Tolkien’s work is the foundation upon which modern epic fantasy is built. The way Tad Williams wrote his characters, and his trimmed down prose further modernized the genre, but he kept the tropes of an engaging narrative, epic quests, and diverse fantasy cultures and races.

When the author employs the highs and lows of our human experience to tell their story, the reader empathizes with the characters. They live the story as if they were the protagonist.

And what about contrasts in world-building? It can be shown in subtle ways.

Juxtaposing plenty and poverty in your worldbuilding shows the backstory without requiring an info dump. Contrast and good pacing turns a wall of words into something worth reading.

In our real world, war, famine, and floods are followed by times of relative peace and plenty. The emotions and experiences of people living through all those times are the real stories.

This is not just a concept found in fantasy novels; it’s a part of our human history and our future.

We shouldn’t limit our reading to the old favorites that started us on this writing path. You may not love the novels on the NY Times literary fiction bestseller list, but it’s a good idea to read one or two of them every now and then as a means of educating yourself. We learn the architecture of stories by reading and dissecting novels and short stories written by the masters, both famous and infamous.

What you don’t like is as important as what you enjoy. Why would a book that you dislike be so successful? No matter how much money a publisher throws at them, some books are stinkers.

You don’t need to pay for books you won’t like. Go to the library or to the secondhand bookstore and see what they have from the NYT bestseller list that you would be willing to examine.

Give that book a postmortem.

  • Did the book have a distinct plot arc?
  • Did it have a strong opening that hooked you?
  • Was there originality in the way the characters and situations were presented?
  • Did you like the protagonist and other main characters? Why or why not?
  • Were you able to suspend your disbelief?
  • Did the narrative contain enough contrasts to keep things interesting?
  • By the end of the book, did the characters grow and change within their personal arc? How were they changed?
  • What sort of transitions did the author employ that made you want to turn the page? How can you use that kind of transition in your own work?
  • Did you get a satisfying ending? If not, how could it have been made better?

Reading and dissecting the works of successful authors is a necessary component of any education in the craft of writing.

When you read a book that you like or dislike, think about how you can apply what you learn to your own work.

I say this regularly, but I must repeat it – getting an education about the craft of writing is important. If you have a good library in your town, this sort of education is free, a price that fits my budget perfectly. What I learn from the masters helps me to plan the pacing, helps me balance the emotions and events in my own stories.

 

 

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June 16, 2025 · 6:00 am

#Writing the Disaster 

Severe weather, fires, famines, and floods are terrible to live through, and many harrowing stories emerge from these experiences. Stories of apocalyptic catastrophes resonate because disaster drives humanity to strive for greater things. Those who survive and rise above it become heroes.

One disaster we may all face at some point is famine driven by climate change. Hunger exists in this world, and famine is an enemy that takes no prisoners.

Food deprivation can have a lasting impact on a person. People can survive on very little, and unfortunately, many do. To go without adequate food for any length of time changes you, makes you determined to never go hungry again. You stockpile preserved foods in times of plenty as a shield against the next famine.

Unfortunately, for some, hunger will lead them to make choices that challenge the accepted morality of those who have no concept of what hunger truly is.

If you are looking for the seeds of a good story, consider the small tragedies people face each day, deeply personal catastrophes. These disasters happen on what seems an unimportant level to people who have resources.

I have used this example before, but it’s a real-life situation, one that may be familiar to you and your community. A young widow is working two part-time jobs and raising her two small children. How would you write her story? Perhaps she lives in an area with no public transportation. She struggles to pay for fuel, but what if her car breaks down? How will she get to work?

All her money goes to fuel, childcare, rent, and utilities. What little she has left after those bills are paid goes to food. She has no resources and no means to pay for car repairs. Without her car, she will lose both jobs. That is a profoundly personal disaster, one from which she and her children might not recover.

But maybe that plot isn’t big enough to inspire you to write a book about it. Perhaps you want to write about a disaster that inspires heroics in the face of widespread devastation. The world itself can provide us with plenty of drama. Wildfires, floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis – these catastrophes regularly destroy thousands of communities.

courtesy Office360 graphics

Once we have introduced our characters and set the scene, it’s time to bring on the natural disaster. When you begin writing the story, it will be chaotic. Just get the bones of the events down as well as you can and move on. You must get the entire story down while it is fresh.

In the first draft, write each scene as fast as you can, and don’t worry about fine-tuning it because you will come back to it later. The second draft is where you will iron out the rough spots and make things logical.

In the second draft, we take apart the scenes where we have told the story and reword them. We show the events as if we were painting with words. We use power words to inject real, believable emotion into the experience.

The window shatters, and a two-by-four impales itself in the wall beside David amid a shower of glass shards. I stare, dumbstruck, as the wind tears the door from my hand and slams it against the wall.

Verbs in that scene are: stare, impales, shatter, tears, and slams. Show the bones of the event by using verbs with powerful visuals, and the reader’s mind will fill in the rest.

I suggest you open a new document and describe the disaster in great detail. Then save it as background material for that story and walk away from it. Let it rest, and move on to something else. When you return to it, read it aloud and see what you can cut and condense and still have the bones of the action. As always, verbs and power words are action’s best friend.

Droughts often cause famines and worse. To go without water is to die. Thirst is a more immediate pain than hunger. The human animal can survive for up to three weeks without food but only three to four days without water. Rarely, one might survive up to a week.

Even brackish water must taste sweet when one suffers from a lack of potable water. And when one is starving, foods they would consider repugnant under other circumstances will fill their belly.

Look at the continual strife in some third-world countries. You will see how long-term droughts have precipitated widespread famine, leading to civil unrest. Gang wars are fought over the right to own a water source, and these conflicts can erupt into revolution.

We often forget this when we have plenty to eat and never have to worry about whether we will have water in our faucet as long as we can pay the bills. However, if we learned anything from the empty grocery store shelves in 2020 and the subsequent supply chain crisis, it is that our well-fed lives are standing on a one-legged stool.

Once the events of the disaster are on paper the way we want them, we have the opportunity to ratchet up the reader’s emotions by the way we portray the aftermath. Who finds strength through the calamity, and who is broken by it? What roadblocks do they face, and how do they recover?

We must complete the story and provide the reader with some closure by ending with our characters in a place of comparative happiness and security.

Drama, heartache, disaster, and violence are the backdrop against which humanity’s story plays out. The most powerful books in the Western Canon of Great Literature explore both the good and evil of the human experience.

We connect with these stories across the centuries because the fundamental concerns of human life aren’t unique to one society, one technological era, or one point in time. We all want enough food, enough water, and reliable shelter.

When we contrast ease with hardship, we add emotional texture to our narrative. I love a good story featuring courage in the face of personal disasters. Readers like me will think about the story and those characters long after it has ended.

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June 9, 2025 · 6:00 am

Beta Reading or Editing? What is the difference? #writing

Last week, we talked about self-editing a manuscript. I shared the process I use to get my work ready for my editor. Even though I go to all that trouble, Irene still finds many places that need attention.

But why isn’t simply following the suggestions raised by beta readers enough? Why go to the trouble of the process as I described it last week AND still have it professionally edited?

First, we need to talk about apples and oranges. Both are fruit and yet they are very different from each other. Beta reading and editing are apples and oranges.

Beta reading is the first look at a manuscript by someone other than the author. I always look for a person who reads for pleasure and can express their thoughts about a story or novel. That person must read and enjoy the genre of that particular story. If they dislike sci-fi, they won’t have good insights to offer about your space opera.

I am fortunate to have excellent friends willing to do this for me. Last week, I received a short story back from two kind friends. Both had good insights as to why I have been unable to sell that story. Stephen and Ceri both provided me with thoughtful and spot-on suggestions.

The first reading by an unbiased eye gives me a view of my story’s overall strengths and weaknesses. The suggestions offered by my circle of friends enable me to make good revisions. My editor can focus on doing her job without being distracted by glaring issues that should have been caught early on.

If you agree to read a raw manuscript for another author, remember that it has NOT been edited.

  • You are reading a first draft. Beta reading is not editing, so don’t overanalyze it. A thousand nit-picky comments at this early stage are not helpful because they clutter things up, obscuring the larger issues.

This manuscript is the child of the author’s soul. Phrase your comments positively, and never be abrupt or accusatory. As a beta reader, you are reading an unfinished project. You are trying to help an author take their manuscript in the direction that they have envisioned.

Why should a beta reader not simply shoot from the hip? I’ve heard some authors say “so-and-so needs to clean things up. He needs to develop a thicker skin,” etc. etc.

That is true, but an author’s ability to make good use of criticism develops gradually as they go out into the professional world.

Kindly worded criticism will help the author and won’t destroy their enjoyment of writing. But harsh criticism shows a lack of understanding on the part of the beta reader. It can generate resentment and a refusal to listen. The traumatized author might never advance beyond the beginning stage.

So, what significant issues must be addressed in the first stage of the revision process? If you are asked to beta read for a fellow author, ask yourself these questions about the overall manuscript:

How does it open? Did the opening hook you? As you read, is there an arc to each scene that keeps you turning the page? Note the page numbers of the places that are confusing.

Setting: Does the setting feel real? Did the author create a sense of time, mood, and atmosphere? Is world-building an organic part of the story?

Characters: Did you understand who the point-of-view character was? Did you know what they were feeling? Were they likable? Did you identify with and care about them? Were there various character types, or did they all seem the same? Were their emotions and motivations clear and relatable?

Dialogue: Did the dialogue and internal narratives advance the plot, or were they opportunities for info dumps? Did the dialogues illuminate the conflict? Did they heighten the tension and add to the suspense? Were the conversations and thoughts distinct to each character, or did they all sound alike?

Plot: Do the characters face a struggle worth writing about? Does the action feel necessary to advance the story? Do the events feel logical, and were you able to suspend your disbelief?

Pacing: How did the momentum feel? Where did the plot bog down and get boring? Did the pacing keep you engaged?

Does the ending surprise and satisfy you? What do you think might happen next?

What about grammar and mechanics? At this point, you can make broad comments regarding grammar and industry practices.  If the author’s work shows they don’t understand basic punctuation standards, suggest they look online for some free and easy articles on grammar. I highly recommend the Purdue OWL® – Purdue OWL® – Purdue University.

Or, if you feel up to it, offer to help them learn a few basics.

Most people have no idea just how difficult sharing your just-completed first draft with anyone is. For that reason, being the first reader of another author’s work is a privilege I don’t take lightly.

Now, we know that the beta reader makes general suggestions to help the author achieve their goals in the second draft.

So, what is editing?

Editing is a process that occurs in the final stage of revision.

The author has completed the manuscript, and it is as clean as they can get it. An editor hasn’t seen the manuscript before. They go over it line by line, pointing out areas that need attention.

  • awkward phrasings,
  • grammatical errors
  • missing quotation marks. etc.

Many things may still need correcting. Sometimes, major structural issues will need to be addressed to improve the pacing. Straightening out all the kinks may take more than one trip through a manuscript.

The various branches of literature have requirements that are unique to them, so there are different kinds of editing.

For academic writing, editing involves carefully reviewing each sentence. Every grammatical error must be resolved, making words and sentences more straightforward, precise, and effective. Weak phrasings are strengthened, nonessential information is weeded out, and important points are clarified.

For novel writing, editing is a stage in which a writer and editor work together to improve a draft by ensuring style and grammatical usage are consistent. The editor does not try to change an author’s voice but does point out errors. If an author’s style breaks convention, the editor ensures that convention is broken consistently from page one to the end of the manuscript. At the same time, strict attention is paid to the overall story arc.

Editors know they are not the author. They will make suggestions, but ultimately, all changes must be approved and implemented by the author.

When you have made the revisions your first reader suggested and feel your book is ready, hire a local, well-recommended editor. You need someone you can work with, a person who wants to help you make your manuscript ready for publication.

You might wonder why you need an editor when you’ve already spent months fine-tuning it. The fact is, no matter how many times we go over our work, our eyes will skip over some things. We are too familiar with our work and see it as it should be, not as it is.

When a reader purchases your book, they won’t be familiar with it. Many readers are savvy and notice what we have overlooked.

On Friday of last week, I received my most recent work-in-progress back from Irene. She combed through all 100,000 words and left me with a treasure trove of suggestions.

Yes, I am an editor, but I can’t identify what is wrong with my own work. My eye wants to skip the less obvious flaws. However, another person will notice and point out what is wrong.

So, between my above-mentioned short story and my forthcoming novel, I have some work ahead of me. But thanks to Stephen, Ceri, and Irene, I now know what needs to be done.

Best of all, it’s the kind of work I love.

Whether we write novels or short stories, we need to have an unbiased eye review it before submitting it to an agent or publication. It’s due diligence, part of the professional process.

 

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June 2, 2025 · 6:00 am

Self-editing – a 3-step process #writing

Many people in my online community have asked for tips on self-editing. I don’t recommend it, as most people don’t have the tenacity to do a proper job of it. However, it can be done, so we’re revisiting a post from April of 2024 on effective self-editing. I hope this answers some questions!

As an editor, I saw every kind of mistake you can imagine, and before that, as a writer, I made them all. This is why I rely on an editor for my work. Irene sees the flaws that my eye skips over.

WritingCraft_self-editingWhen prepping a novel to send to Irene, I use a three-part method. This requires specific tools that come with Microsoft Word, my word-processing program. I believe these tools are available for Google Docs and every other word-processing program. Unfortunately, I am only familiar with Microsoft’s products as they are what the companies that I worked for used.

What follows are three steps that should eliminate most problems in a manuscript.

Part one: Beta Reading is the first look at a manuscript by someone other than the author. I suggest you don’t omit this step unless you can find no one who understands what you need. A good beta reader is a person who reads for pleasure and can gently express what they think about a story or novel. Also, look for a person who enjoys the genre of that particular story. Your beta reader should ask several questions of this first draft (feel free to give them the following list).

beta read meme 2Part two: Once I have ironed out the rough spots noticed by my beta readers, this second stage is put into action. Yes, on the surface the manuscript looks finished, but it has only just begun the journey.

In Microsoft Word, on the Review Tab, I access the Read Aloud function and begin reading along with the mechanical voice. Yes, the narrator app is annoying and mispronounces words like “read,” which sound different and have different meanings depending on the context. However, this first tool alerts me to areas that were overlooked in the first stage of revisions.

ReviewTabLIRF07032021The most frustrating part is the continual stopping, making corrections, and starting.

I use this function rather than reading it aloud from the monitor, as the computer screen tricks the eye. I tend to see and read aloud what I think should be there rather than what is.

  • I habitually key the word though when I mean through or lighting when I mean lightning. Each is a different word but is only one letter apart. Most (but not all) miss keyed words will leap out when you hear them read aloud.
  • Most (but not all) run-on sentences stand out when you hear them read aloud.
  • Most (but not all) inadvertent repetitions also stand out.
  • Most of the time, hokey phrasing doesn’t sound as good as you thought it was.
  • Most of the time, you hear where you have dropped words because you were keying so fast you skipped over including an article, like “the” or “a” before a noun.

This is a long process that involves a lot of stopping and starting. It takes me well over a week to get through an entire 90,000-word manuscript. I will have trimmed about 3,000 words by the end of this phase. I will have caught many typos and miss keyed words and rewritten many clumsy passages.

But I am not done.

Part three: the manual edit. This is where I make a physical copy and do the work the old-fashioned way.

Everything looks different when printed out, and you will see many things you don’t notice on the computer screen or hear when it is read aloud by the narrator app.

  • Houghton_Typ_805.94.8320_-_Pride_and_Prejudice,_1894,_Hugh_Thomson_-_Protested

    Illustration by Hugh Thomson representing Mr. Collins protesting that he never reads novels.

    Open your manuscript. Make sure the pages are numbered in the upper right-hand corner.

  • Print out the first chapter and either staple it together or use a binder clip. If you drop it, the pages will all be together in the proper order.
  • Turn to the last page. Cover the page with another sheet of paper, leaving only the final paragraph visible.
  • Starting with the final paragraph on the last page, begin reading, working your way forward.
  • With a yellow highlighter, mark each place that needs revising.
  • With a red pen/pencil, make notes in the margins to guide the revisions. (Red is highly visible, so you won’t miss it when you are putting your corrections into the digital manuscript.
  • Put the corrected chapter on a recipe stand next to your computer. Open your manuscript and save it as a new file. (ManuscriptTitle_final_Apr2024.docx.) Begin making the revisions as noted on your hard copy.
  • Do the same for each chapter until you have finished revising the entire manuscript.

I look for info dumps, passive phrasing, and timid words. They are signs that a section needs rewriting to make it visual rather than telling. Clunky phrasing and info dumps are signals telling me what I intend that scene to be but haven’t shown. Showing takes fewer words. Many times, I must cut some of the info and allow the reader to use their imagination.

I will have trimmed another 3,000 to 4,000 more words from my manuscript by the end of this process.

By the time we begin writing, most of us have forgotten whatever grammar we once knew. Editing software is a good tool for this. But editing software operates on algorithms and doesn’t understand context.

to err is human to edit divineI am wary of relying on Grammarly or ProWriting Aid for anything other than alerting you to possible problems. Look at each thing they point out and decide whether to accept their recommendation or not. 

You’ll get into trouble if you assume the AI editing programs are always correct. As I said above, they don’t understand context. Good writing involves technical knowledge of grammar, but voice isn’t about algorithms.

Novels are comprised of many essential components. If one element fails, the story won’t work the way I envision it. I always remember that it’s been months since a beta reader saw the mess I am working on and much has changed. I take a hard look at these aspects:

  • Characterization – are the characters individuals?
  • Dialogue – do people sound natural? Do they sound alike, or are they each unique?
  • Mechanics (grammar/punctuation flaws will be more noticeable when printed out)
  • Pacing—how does it transition from action scene to action scene?
  • Plot – does the story revolve around a genuine problem?
  • Prose – how do my sentences flow? Do they say what I mean?
  • Themes – What underlying thread ties the whole story together? Have I used the theme to its best potential?

Being a linear thinker, this process of making revisions works for me. It can take more than a month, but when I’ve finished, I’ll have a manuscript that won’t be full of avoidable distractions. It will be something I can send to my editor. And because I have done my best work, Irene will be able to focus on finding as much of what I have missed as is humanly possible.

Editors_bookself_25May2018If you read as much as I do (and this includes books published by large Traditional publishers), you know that a few mistakes and typos can and will get through despite their careful editing. So, don’t agonize over what you might have missed. If you’re an indie, you can upload a corrected file.

We are all only human, after all.

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May 26, 2025 · 6:00 am

Self-editing part one – 7 easy-to-remember rules of punctuation #writing

Many authors are just starting out in the craft and have never written anything longer than a memo or a social-media post before the novel they just finished. Once their manuscript is revised to their satisfaction, they might try to self-edit it rather than hire a freelance editor.

This can work if they took writing courses or had an education that included creative writing.

But I don’t recommend it. We see what we believe is there, not what is there.

A majority of new writers haven’t written since they left school. They don’t remember how to write a readable sentence or what a paragraph should (or should not) contain.

I certainly didn’t retain those skills. However, while I couldn’t afford to go back to college, I did go out of my way to educate myself.

First, we must think of punctuation as the traffic signal that keeps the words flowing and the intersections manageable.

Trying to learn from a grammar manual is daunting, to say the least. I learned by looking things up in the Chicago Manual of Style (CMoS), which is the rule book for American English, and from working with my editor. Most editors in the large traditional publishing houses refer to the CMoS when they have questions.

I use Bryan A. Garner’s “the Chicago Guide to Grammar, Usage, and Punctuation.”

Maybe (like me) you came up in the world of business before the computer revolution. If so, you may be familiar with several other grammar style guides. Each is tailored to a particular kind of writing:

  • The AP manual is for journalism.
  • The Gregg manual for business writing.
  • The CMoS is specifically for creative writing, such as fiction, memoirs, and personal essays, but also includes business and journalism rules.

You don’t need to know everything in the CMoS. If you know the fundamentals and are consistent with how you use them, your writing will pass most tests.

Punctuation appears complicated when one is new to it. This confusion occurs because some advanced usages are open to interpretation. The way you habitually use them is your voice.

One thing remains clear: the foundational laws of comma use are not open to interpretation.

If you consistently follow seven simple rules, your work will look professional.

Rule one: commas and the fundamental rules for their use exist for a reason. If we want the reading public to understand our work, we need to follow them. Let’s get the “don’ts” out of the way:

  • DO NOT insert commas “where you take a breath” because that many commas are unnecessary, and the habit creates run-on sentences.
  • DO NOT insert commas where you think a sentence should pause because every reader sees the pauses differently.

Rule two: Commas can join two independent but related clauses with the aid of a conjunction. (I repeat: independent but related with the help of a conjunction.)

The independent clause is a complete standalone sentence.

  • Boris worships the ground I walk on. His adoration tires me. (Two sentences.)
  • Boris worships the ground I walk on, but his adoration tires me. (One sentence.)

Dependent clauses are unfinished and can’t stand on their own. Join them in the sentence with a conjunction and omit the comma this way:

  • Boris worships the ground I walk on and brings me margaritas by the pool. (And is a conjunction, a joining word.)

You do not join unrelated independent clauses (clauses that can stand alone as separate sentences) with commas as that creates a rift in the space/time continuum: the Comma Splice.

  • Boris kissed the hem of my garment, Woofer, my dog, likes to ride shotgun.

What we have there is a wandering, run-on sentence created by the casual use of the comma splice. The dog has little to do with Boris other than the fact they both worship me. They should not be in the same paragraph, much less the same sentence. Here is the same thought, written correctly:

Boris kissed the hem of my garment.

Woofer, my dog, likes to ride shotgun.

  • The dog riding shotgun is an independent clause and does not relate at all to Boris and his adoration of me. It is a different idea and should be in a separate paragraph. If you want Boris and the dog in the same sentence, you must rewrite it:

Boris and Woofer worship me and fight for the right to ride shotgun.

Rule three: a semicolon in an untrained hand is a dangerous thing. Some people (including Microsoft Word) think a semicolon signifies an extra-long pause but not a hard ending. The Chicago Manual of Style says that belief is wrong. Don’t blindly accept what Spellcheck or the AI editor app tells you!

So, when do we use them? We only use them when two clauses are short, complete sentences that relate to each other. Here are two brief sentences that would be too choppy if left separate.

  • The door swung open at a touch. Light spilled into the room. (2 related short standalone sentences.)
  • The door swung open at a touch; light spilled into the room. (2 related short sentences joined by a semicolon.)
  • The door swung open at a touch, and light spilled into the room. (1 compound sentence made from 2 related standalone clauses joined by a comma and a conjunction.) (A connector word.)

All three of the above sentences are technically correct. The usage you habitually choose is your voice.

I don’t hate semicolons, although some editors do. However, I generally look for alternatives to them.

Rule four: Colons. These tidbits of punctuation commonly head lists found in technical writing. Colons are rarely needed in narrative prose. In technical writing, you might say something like:

For the next step, you will need:

  1. four nails,
  2. two feet of rope,
  3. one banana, whole and unpeeled.

I have no idea what they are building, but I can’t wait to see it.

Rule five:  Oxford commas, also known as serial commas. This is the one war authors will never win or find common ground, a true civil war.

When listing a string of things in a narrative, we separate them with commas to prevent confusion. I like people to understand what I mean, so I always use the Oxford Comma/Serial Comma.

If there are only two things in a list, they do not need to be separated by a comma. If there are more than two items, separate them with a comma.

We sell dogs, cats, rabbits, and birds.

Why do we need clarity? You might know what you mean, but not everyone thinks the same way.

  • I accept this award and thank my late parents, Tad Williams and Poseidon.

That sentence might make sense to some readers, but not all. The intention of it is to thank my late parents, my favorite author, and the god of the sea. If I don’t thank Poseidon, my next fishing trip could end badly.

  • I accept this award and thank my late parents, Tad Williams, and Poseidon.

Regardless of which stance you take on the Oxford/serial comma, choose your poison and be consistent.

Rule six: We use commas after introductory clauses.

After dark, Boris changes into his bat form and goes hunting for enchiladas.

Rule seven: When writing dialogue, all punctuation goes inside the quotation marks.

  1. A comma follows the spoken words, separating the dialogue from the speech tag.
  2. The clause containing the dialogue is enclosed, punctuation and all, within quotes.
  3. The speech tag is the second half of the sentence, and a period ends the entire sentence.

The editor said, “I agree with those statements.”

  1. When dialogue is split by the speech tag, do not capitalize the first word in the second half.

“I agree with those statements,” said the editor, “but I wish you’d stop repeating yourself.”

If you follow these seven simple rules, your work will be readable. If your story is as original as you think it is, it will be acceptable to acquisitions editors.

Next week, we will continue our look at effective self-editing.

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May 19, 2025 · 6:00 am

Phrasing, pacing, and voice #writing

Today, we are revisiting the way our habitual word choices affect the pacing of our narrative.

We are encouraged to write active prose as opposed to passive, but what does that mean? First, the term “active prose” does not refer to the events that keep the plot arc moving.

Active prose refers to our word choices and how we construct our sentences.

A passive sentence is not “wrong.” No matter how active the phrasing, a poorly written sentence is not “better.”

Passive phrasing slows the reader’s perception of the story, which may be what you want.

  • “Deep in the forest, there was a cabin.” Passive, descriptive, longer.
  • “A cabin stood deep in the forest.” Active, verb forward, shorter.

The two examples say the same thing, but the words that surround and modify “cabin” change the mood of the sentence and set the tone for what follows. Neither sentence is right or wrong. It’s up to the writer to choose which style they go with.

Most modern readers don’t have the patience for long strings of descriptive, wordy sentences. However, they do like a chance to breathe and absorb what just happened.

Our task is to mingle active and passive phrasing to keep things balanced. That skill is a fundamental aspect of pacing.

Good pacing is about balanced prose as much as it is about staging the events. It is dynamic, engaging, and immersive.

How do we write balanced prose? It begins with the words we choose to show our story and the order in which we place them in the sentence.

The ways we combine active and passive phrasing are part of our signature, our voice. By mixing active phrasing with a little passive, we choose areas of emphasis and places in the narrative where we want to direct the reader’s attention.

Some types of narratives should feel highly charged and action-packed. Most of your sentences should be constructed with the verbs forward if you write in genres such as sci-fi, political thrillers, and crime thrillers.

  • Stephenie gripped the handhold, bracing herself.

The above sentence is Noun + verb + article + noun + transitive verb + noun.

Verbs are action words, but all verbs are not equal in strength.

Verbs that begin with hard consonants are power verbs. They push the action outward from a character. Other verbs pull the action inward. The two forces, push and pull, create a sense of opposition and friction. Dynamism in word choices injects a passage with vitality, vigor, and energy.

  • When we employ verbs that push the action outward from a character, we make them appear authoritative, competent, energetic, and decisive.
  • Conversely, verbs that pull the action in toward the character make them appear receptive, attentive, private, and flexible.

A poor choice of words makes a sentence weak. Passive construction can still be strong despite being poetic.

Has someone said your work is too wordy? An excess of modifiers could be the offenders.

  1. Look for the many forms of the phrasal verb to be. These words easily connect to other words and lead to long, convoluted passages.
  2. Look for connecting modifiers (still, however, again, etc.).

Concise writing can be difficult for those of us who love words in all their glory. Nevertheless, I work at it.

My goal during revisions is to make use of contrasts to show the story with the least number of words.

  • dwell on / ignore
  • embrace / reject
  • consent / refuse
  • agony / ecstasy

Many power words begin with hard consonants. The following is a short list of nouns and adjectives that start with the letter B. The images they convey when used to describe action project a feeling of power:

  • Backlash (noun)
  • Beating (noun or verb)
  • Beware (verb)
  • Blinded (adjective)
  • Blood (noun)
  • Bloodbath (noun)
  • Bloodcurdling (adjective)
  • Bloody (adjective)
  • Blunder (noun or verb)

courtesy Office360 graphics

As you can see, some nouns are also verbs, such as beating or blunder. When you incorporate any of the above “B” words into your prose, you are posting a road sign for the reader, a notice that danger lies ahead.

If I want to create an atmosphere of anxiety, I would use words that push the action outward:

  • Agony (noun)
  • Apocalypse (noun)
  • Armageddon (noun)
  • Assault (verb)
  • Backlash (noun)
  • Pale (modifier)
  • Panic (verb or noun)
  • Target (verb)
  • Teeter (verb)
  • Terrorize (verb)

If I want to show the interior workings of a character without resorting to a dump of italicized whining, I could write their internal observations using words that draw us in:

  • Delirious (modifier)
  • Depraved (modifier)
  • Desire (verb)
  • Dirty (modifier)
  • Divine (modifier)
  • Ecstatic (modifier)

So why are verbs so crucial in shaping the tone and atmosphere of a narrative? When things get tricky and the characters are working their way through a problem, verbs like stumble or blunder offer a sense of chaos and don’t require a lot of modifiers to show the atmosphere.

We are drawn to the work of our favorite authors because we like their voice and writing style. The unique, recognizable way they choose words and assemble them into sentences appeals to us, although we don’t consciously think of it that way.

In the second draft, I finetune the plot arc and character arcs, and most importantly, I adjust phrasing.

The tricky part is catching all the weak word choices. Those of you who write a clean first draft are rare and wonderful treasures. I wish I had that talent.

When I find a stretch of blah-blah-blah, I reimagine the scene. I go to the thesaurus to see how to strengthen the narrative while still keeping to my original intention.

There are times when nothing will improve an awkward scene, and it must be scrapped. Be brave and be bold, and cut away the dead wood.

Things to remember:

  • Where we choose to place the verbs changes their impact but not their meaning.
  • The words we surround verbs with change the mood but not their intention.
  • Modifiers are words that alter their sentences’ meanings. They add details and clarify facts, distinguishing between people, events, or objects.
  • Infinitives are mushy words, words with no definite beginning or end.

Modifiers and infinitives are necessary for good writing. However, like salt or any other seasoning, they have the power to strengthen or weaken our prose.

So now you know what I have been doing here at Casa del Jasperson. Cleaning up my excessively wordy work-in-progress is time-consuming. However, I enjoy this aspect of the craft as much as writing the first draft.

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May 12, 2025 · 6:00 am

Foreshadowing and pacing #writing

I’m sitting here on a cloudy Sunday morning in May, sipping tea and wondering what to write for this post. Things have been crazy on the home front for a couple of months. Well, for the last year, really. Now my husband is settled in a good place where he can be properly cared for around the clock. I am adjusting to having more time on my hands than I’m used to.

He’s in a lovely, caring home now. I go there to visit him every morning after I tend our small veggie plot in the community garden. And yes, although I do have the time now, I struggle to find the ambition to reorganize my jumble of an office.

However, while housekeeping still bores me, and I no longer have a valid excuse for not doing it, I always feel like writing.

Which seems more important than filing the pile of medical and legal documents that depress me.

I just don’t always know what to write.

And, sometimes, it’s hard to know where a story should actually begin. Is it the eve of a party? Is it the day of a friend’s funeral? Where does the story begin?

Wherever the story starts, I want the reader to keep turning the pages, and a little foreshadowing can encourage them to do that.

Hints that all is not what it seems are an important aspect of the narrative. They pique the reader’s interest and make them want to know what is really going on and how the book will end.

But what is foreshadowing? It is the subtle warning that danger lurks ahead, a few clues embedded in the first quarter of the story to subliminally alert the reader that things may not go well for the protagonist. We include small warning signs of future events, bait, if you will, to lure the reader and keep them reading

In the opening paragraphs, I will focus on the protagonists and hint at their problems. Novels are built the same way as a Gothic cathedral. Each scene is a small arc of action and reaction. These arcs support other arcs in layers, creating an intricate structure that rises high and withstands all that nature can throw at it.

In the first draft, we all commit sins of craftsmanship. These are secret codes, road signs for us to examine in the second draft:

  1. Clumsy foreshadowing, baldly stating what is going to happen later. We rewrite those scenes to make the clues less obvious.
  2. Or we might commit the opposite sin, neglecting to foreshadow so that events seem to arrive out of nowhere.

Recognizing those signals can be a challenge, but hopefully, our beta readers will notice and comment. My writing group is central to my work process.

We all know the opening paragraphs are vital. They are the hook and must offer a reason for the reader to continue past the first page. These paragraphs usually sell the book.

Getting the pacing right in those opening paragraphs and maintaining it to the last page is, in my opinion, the most challenging part of writing.

How much exposition is needed? What can be cut without making the story choppy and confusing? What must stay? When a possibility is briefly, almost offhandedly mentioned, but almost immediately overlooked or ignored by the protagonists, that is a form of foreshadowing.

Is that hint enough for the reader to understand what is going on? It’s easy to accidentally frontload the opening pages with a wall of backstory. I learned the hard way that long lead-ins ruin the chances of your book making readers happy.

I try to open the story with my characters in place and get the introductions out of the way. Within the first few pages, a question of some sort must be raised, or I must get the inciting incident underway. This is crucial for the pacing as it sets the characters and the reader on the trail of the answer, throwing them into the action.

Usually, there is no reason for the characters to hear the twelve-paragraph saga of the Caverns of Despair before they enter them. The readers also don’t need to know that history. The name is descriptive and is an indicator of what lies ahead. Names of places can be a form of foreshadowing that don’t slow the pacing.

Often, side characters will drop clues regarding things the protagonist doesn’t know, knowledge that affects the plot. Subplots that advance the main story’s plot arc are excellent ways of introducing the emotional part of the story, but beware.

Side quests are often fun in a video game but can ruin the pacing of a novel. They can be distracting and 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 overall atmosphere is established and the core crisis is underway, and only if they are necessary for the completion of the principal quest.

Like Bilbo finding the One Ring.

Sometimes, we open the story by dropping our characters into the middle of an event. Even if we do that, we still need a pivotal event at the 1/4 mark that completely rocks their world. The event that changes everything is the jumping-off point for the story.

As a reader, I notice when a character suddenly displays a new skill or knowledge, something they never showed before. When this happens, it’s usually explained away as a Chekhov’s Skill. I usually stop reading at that point and forget about finishing the book.

Without briefly foreshadowing that superior ability, the reader will assume the character doesn’t have it, and the narrative becomes unbelievable. A casual mention early on of the characters using or training to use that skill would make it believable.

The most crucial aspect of foreshadowing is the surprise a reader feels when the clues come together to form a complete picture of the imminent disaster. This is the moment when the reader says, “I should have seen that coming.”

We have many reasons to pursue good foreshadowing skills. In my opinion, the most important is that it helps avoid using the clumsy Deus Ex Machina (pronounced: Day-us ex Mah-kee-nah) (God from the Machine) as a way to miraculously resolve an issue.

That literary faux pas occurs when, toward the end of the narrative, an author inserts a new event, character, ability, or otherwise resolves a seemingly insoluble problem in an unexpected and miraculous way.

Pacing is a combination of action and reaction. Transitions bookend each scene. They are a door into the scene and the way out. The way out is always the way into the next scene. How we use those transitions determines the importance of the passage. The bookends determine the narrative’s pacing.

Transition scenes get us smoothly from one event or conversation to the next. They push the plot forward and control pacing.

  • Action, reaction, information, reaction, action, reaction, rinse, and repeat until the story reaches its conclusion.

So, now that I have rambled on about writing, I will get busy and clear up my office. I always feel better once a disagreeable task is properly finished.

And then, maybe I will make some headway on my work in progress. Working in a lovely, organized space—what a concept!

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: The Crystal Ball by John William Waterhouse, 1902. Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:John William Waterhouse – The Crystal Ball.JPG,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:John_William_Waterhouse_-_The_Crystal_Ball.JPG&oldid=1009616986  (accessed May 11, 2025).

IMAGE: The One Ring, Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:One Ring Blender Render.png,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:One_Ring_Blender_Render.png&oldid=914989927 (accessed May 11, 2025).

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May 5, 2025 · 6:00 am

Worldbuilding – Calendars and Maps #writing

I discovered early on that keeping a calendar and a map gives me a realistic view of my plot arc. A calendar of events helps me remember in what season an incident occurred when something arises later in the first draft that pertains to it. Foliage changes with the seasons, and weather is a part of worldbuilding. Spring foliage is very different from autumn in the part of the world I am from.

And there are other reasons for keeping a calendar as well as sketching a simple map that no one but yourself will see.

A calendar of events helps you with pacing and consistency. In conjunction with a map, a calendar keeps the roadblocks moving along the story arc. It ensures you allow enough time to reasonably accomplish large tasks, enabling a reader to suspend their disbelief.

When it comes to calendars, I suggest you stick with what is familiar, and here is why. In 2008, a lunar calendar seemed like a good thing when creating my first world. The storyline and world of Mountains of the Moon was originally for an anime-style RPG that was never built due to several reasons, a tech crash being only one. When the project was scrapped, I still had the rights to my storyline, maps, and calendars.

My calendar for that world was (and still is) a hot mess.

In the game as we envisioned it, the calendar wouldn’t have been a problem as the days of the week were only mentioned in terms of when a shop was open. But that storyline eventually became my Tower of Bones series, which is set in the world of Neveyah. The calendar I devised so long ago for the game is an annoyance to me now.

  • Thirteen months, twenty-eight days each, named after astrological signs. Capricas, Aquis, Piscus, etc. (Not that many people know what time of year Taurus or Capricorn are unless it’s their birth sign.)
  • The names I assigned to the dates and months are problematic: Lunaday, Tyrsday, Odensday, Torsday, Frosday, Sunnaday, and Restday.

Not confusing at all. Nope.

In 2008, I had no idea just how awful my choice of names for the days and months would end up being. The calendar could have been scrapped and switched to our real-world calendar when I decided to turn it into a novel, but that didn’t occur to me.

And now, seventeen years later, I’m stuck with it. It’s why all my other books are plotted using the modern Gregorian calendar.

So take my advice and keep it simple.

But lets go back to the maps. 

Maybe you think you aren’t artistic enough for mapmaking.

Original Map of Neveyah from 2008 © 2008 cjjasperson

You don’t have to be an artist to draw a rudimentary map of an imaginary place. The rudimentary elements of the first map of my World of Neveyah series were scribbled on graph paper during a phone conversation. It evolved from there to the map you see at the left.

Later, it evolved into an art piece for the books because I love pretty maps, such as those in the Wheel of Time books by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson.

I use pencil and graph paper at this stage because the story chooses the geography. As the rough draft evolves, sometimes towns must be renamed. They may have to be moved to more logical places. Whole mountain ranges may have to be moved or reshaped so that forests and savannas will appear where they are supposed to be in the story.

Maybe you think you don’t need a map. If your characters are going from hither to yon, and you are writing about their travels, you probably should at least make good notes. But truthfully, it’s not a lot of work to scribble a few lines and note towns and landmarks. If you are designing a fantasy world, you only need a pencil-drawn map. Even if the story is set in a town, it helps to know where our characters are going in relation to their home base.

These maps and notes and calendars are for your use only, a way to avoid introducing confusion into the story. So, your map doesn’t have to be fancy. Lay it out like a standard map with north at the top, east to the right, south to the bottom, and west to the left. Those are called cardinal points, each at 90-degree intervals in the clockwise direction, which is standard in modern maps.

Many towns are situated on rivers. Water rarely flows uphill. While it may do so if pushed by the force of wave action or siphoning, water is a slave to gravity and chooses to flow downhill. When making your map, locate rivers between mountains and hills. Rivers flow to a valley and either continue on to the ocean or pool in low spots and form lakes and ponds.

You might want to note where rivers and forests are situated relative to towns, or in the case of towns, what streets and cross streets our Heroes must travel. We need to take into account the fact that detours add to the distance and increase the time it takes to travel using the common mode of transportation.Rivers, mountains, lakes, and ponds make travel difficult, forcing a road or trail to go around them. This creates opportunities for plot twists in a fantasy story. Thieves, highwaymen—a lot of good plot fodder can be had with the right geography.

If your work is sci-fi, consider making a map of the space station/ship if that is where the story takes place. Billy Ninefingers is set in a wayside inn. I made a drawing of the floor plan for my purposes, noting who resided in each room, on the Rowdies’ floor because the inn is the world in which Billy’s story takes place.

If your characters travel, I suggest you keep the actual distances a bit general in the narrative because some readers will nitpick the details, no matter how accurate you are. Readers may not see it the way you do because their perception of a league might be three miles, while yours might be one and a half.

Both are correct. League (unit) – Wikipedia

Fantasy readers like maps. If you are writing fantasy but feel your hand-drawn map isn’t good enough to include in the finished product, consider hiring an artist to make a nice map from your notes.

No matter what genre we write in, we want the narrative to feel real for the reader. We do this through worldbuilding. Maps and calendars, no matter how rudimentary, are foundation tools of worldbuilding in my writing process.

I hope this little two-part series on worldbuilding has helped you visualize your work more easily.

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Worldbuilding – the stylesheet/storyboard #writing | Life in the Realm of Fantasy

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