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Aphelion

Aphelion is the second book of poetry written by Ian J. Martin. Watch for details of release happening soon!

Wordherders: What Works, What Doesn’t Work

For our August 2020 discussion, the Wordherders brought examples from their reading – and their writing – to share with others as examples of what works for them in writing and what doesn’t.

Rosann Ferris: Killers of the Flower Moon, The Osage Murders, and the Birth of the FBI by David Gran

Jess Goodrich has been reading political essays. What didn’t work for her is when authors of essays meant to persuade the reader didn’t show their work. That is, she read authors who laid the foundation for an argument but then layered on positions that were not supported by the foundation. When writing opinion essays, authors should determine whether their goal is persuasion and advocacy or a balanced analysis of an issue. With a purpose in mind, we can start with a statement of our objective and bring the reader along, rather than leaving them behind feeling like the essay went in an unpredictable direction.

Greg Mendell talked about Spin, by Robert Charles Wilson a science fiction, time travel story that begins when the stars go out. Greg says:

Two things I look for in a book are an intriguing premise and a connection to the characters. Spin by Robert Charles Wilson, for me, has both. The premise: a time-distorting spin-web has surrounded the Earth so that billions of years will pass outside the web, and the Sun will burn out, over the next 30 years on Earth. The hook for me is at the start of chapter 2: “I was twelve, the twins were thirteen, the night the stars disappeared from the sky.” The narrator, Tyler, then describes how smart the twins, Dianne and Jason are, and how he had “reached an age” when details about Diane “had taken on a poorly understood but undeniable significance.” We then see how these characters develop knowing everything will end in 30 years, but it all would work even without the sci-fi premise!

Lori Lucero shared The EvoAngel, by Ellen King Rice.

DeeAnna Galbraith shared three books by Philip Pullman: The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass. She also shared the non-fiction book, Making, by Thomas Heatherwick.

Betsy Dickinson compared how characters were introduced and identified in the Inspector Lynley mystery, Well Schooled in Murder, by Elizabeth George and The Outsider by Stephen King. Betsy found that Stephen King’s voice for each character really helps keep them straight. George’s book had too many characters and some were identified by more than one name at different times. For example, she gave as an example, using made up names, that Sir George Winston might be George, Winston, or Lord Salsbury.

I shared two examples. In the case of The Martian by Andy Weir, what did not work well for me was a dramatic and singular change in POV. Most of the story is told with immediacy and intensity from first person, in present tense. But in one scene, when the protagonist reaches his critical objective, Weir changes to omniscient. Shifts in POV can be distracting; to change POV for one scene was jarring.

The example I shared of what worked well for me was the unique voice achieved by Kira Jane Buxton in her post-apocalyptic novel, Hollow Kingdom. The story is told from the POV of a domesticated crow, S.T.

Gestures, Expressions, and Movement Beats by Category

From Allen Johnson: I have been reading best sellers (Nora Roberts, Sandra Brown, Dean Koontz) and, all the while, keeping an eye on dialogue and motion/gesture beats. I’ve organized them into categories (e.g., anger, anguish, nervousness, joy, walking, sitting, etc.). My purpose has not been to plagiarize but to give myself some ideas for creating my own beats. I thought the list (now 16 pages) might be helpful for other writers in Wordherders.

Anger/Annoyance

  • Anger had deafened him to what she was saying
  • Tapped down the anger
  • sent Mason a sharp look in case he said different
  • fisted his/her hands
  • he was goading him
  • Simmer down.
  • Thought he could her teeth grinding all the way across the room, which was oddly satisfying.
  • Despite the hot ball in his belly
  • She showed Leo her teeth.  squared her shoulders. 
  • Her mouth thinned as she heard the hot slap of his words in her head.  
  • inclined her head.  
  • Through his teeth, he hissed, “Son of a bitch.” 
  • His chest rose and fell with emotion
  • He made an angry swipe through the air with his fist.
  • Throttled his temper/anger
  • He threw off her grasp
  • His motions abrupt, he gave the heavy doorknob a vicious turn, yanked the door open, and strode out.
  • Mine: looked like he could kill and eat somebody, not necessarily in that order.
  • Rankled her
  • Re-faced with fury. His teeth were clenched.
  • Practically having to unclench his teeth to get the words out
  • A fever of excitement in his brain: agitation, fermentation, effervescence
  • She would turn to stone before she asked where he’d been
  • His jaw sets at this, and he looks away.
  • His blood started humming in his head
  • A scowl moved over her face
  • She gritted her teeth against the curse that sprang to her tongue/mind
  • Ears started to ring
  • His blood seemed to have come to a boil

Anguish/Misery/Sadness

  • Nursed no delusions about himself
  • Something was rising up in his throat that felt like equal parts panic and hope.
  • That terrible plea in her mother’s *voice, that awful rawness, like a cut that wouldn’t heal.  
  • Emotions, too many, too mixed, too huge, slammed through her. They choked her throat, twisted her belly, stabbed her heart.
  • staring into space, sadness weighing down his facial features
  • Her concussed brain dragged her toward oblivion
  • The space between her shoulder blades burned with tension
  • Her throat grew so thick she could barely speak
  • Sight of her caused a pinching pain in his heart
  • This was tearing him apart, but he had to be the grown-up, the brave one
  • He felt her chest hitch with a small hiccup that presaged tears
  • Squeezed his eyes shut to keep his own tears inside
  • Low keening: sound of grief
  • Too moved to speak
  • “Oh,” she said with such compassion, he felt his eyes burn and tear
  • Stress and grief made an uneasy marriage in her stomach
  • Grief rushed over her face
  • Upon seeing his father, his heart lurched
  • He had to talk around the lump that formed in his throat
  • Channeling from the land of the undead/dead
  • Gave a half laugh, half sob
  • Tear-blurred eyes
  • Shaking off the melancholy
  • Made a remorseful sound
  • Guilt balled in her belly

Animals

  • The dog *bellied toward her. 
  • He laid his head, all floppy eared and dirty, on her leg, didn’t whimper so much as moan. 
  • when she broke down to pet him, the dog turned his head, nuzzled her hand. 

Awareness

  • It occurred to him in a moment of blinding, terrifying clarity
  • Caught between amusement and puzzlement
  • Nodded because she could see it, see how it might have been

Breath/Sigh

  • Hissed out a tired breath
  • She didn’t take a clear, easy breath until they were outside again.
  • He snuffled with disgust
  • Heaved a sigh of confession
  • Heaved an audible breath
  • Waved his hand until he’d caught his breath
  • Heaved a resounding breath
  • Blew out and annoyed breath

Censor/ Self-censor

  • His expression/emotions/thoughts/rage shuttered

Cry

  • Dabbed her eyes
  • Eyes watered up
  • Choking up entirely, she paused to swallow several times, taking hard gulps of air

Conflict

  • he and Joe squared off

Dialogue/Speaking/Listening

  • he interrupted her by moving suddenly to bring them fact-to-face
  • He tilted his head as though he doubted that
  • The kept the observation to herself
  • said a terse good night
  • “Every-damn-body.”
  • “You—” He stopped to amend what he’d been about to say.
  • “don’t bother,” he said when he saw she was about to counter.
  • She looked away from him and, for a time, said nothing.
  • feeling rather like a heel for having said that
  • cocked his head as though to better hear the part that Neal had left dangling.  
  • She broke off [what she was saying] as he was already hunkered down
  • She laughed, and spoke absolute truth.
  • Purged himself of the details
  • Said without infliction
  • Snorted her disdain
  • Snuffled over the man’s stilted apology
  • “trying to be honest,” he added when she frowned/laughed at him
  • She hurled the words at him, along with a fear-tinted rage.  
  • He let the last word hang a moment
  • On a burst of inspiration, she said, 
  • The cool, flat way he said it brought on another shudder
  • She clung to every word as Neal described the situation.  
  • Her throat grew so thick she could barely speak
  • By the time he got to the last word, his voice was practically a screech.
  • “Where are you going?” Over his shoulder, he said, “To lunch.”
  • “Will I see you later?” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what would be the point. Instead, she smiled up at him.  
  • “Jesus,” he said under his breath
  • Made a mournful sound.
  • Huskily she replied
  • Said with palpable disgust
  • spoke in a low rumble that was rich with carnal implications
  • lowered her voice and spoke with a profound seriousness that mesmerized
  • Clammed up and shook his head
  • Declined to comment
  • He didn’t have a response for that
  • He just looked at him
  • They declined in unison
  • Left the men suspended in a taut silence
  • Seeing the reproach in her expression, he said sourly,
  • He rushed to say,
  • . . . he said, trying not to sound too droll
  • “Doesn’t matter.” His flippancy only underscored that it did matter—a lot. She probably picked up on that.  
  • She said it with a teasing lilt, but he remained unsmiling
  • Spat out an obscenity
  • He was probably lying about that, but Crawford let it pass.  He didn’t pursue that illogical train of thought.
  • Made up some mumbo jumbo
  • With false bravado, he said
  • Disregarding her question, he said
  • Made a promise he never intended to keep
  • She waiting, then probed him for a response
  • Was too excited for the double entendre to register
  • Never sensing the avalanche he’d incited.
  • Muttered a few choice epithets
  • Her throat grew so thick she could barely speak
  • His statement left Neal no choice except to elaborate, although he did so grudgingly.  
  • Stiff-lipped with resignation, he said,  
  • Came back angrily
  • Gave a skeptical grunt
  • He let that settle, and when he didn’t respond, he said,
  • He pressed on
  • Let his raise eyebrows (shrug/half smile/grimace) speak for him
  • Speaking in an undertone
  • It wasn’t poetry, but it was profound.
  • Was determined not to let the conversation spin out of control
  • His complacency was almost more than Crawford could stand, but he forced himself to keep still and maintain a conversational tone. 
  • “Anything else?” he asked tightly.
  • Figured his silence was enough.
  • Speaking to her directly as if she were the only person in the room
  • Hummed his eagerness to learn what he had in mand
  • Made a rolling motion with his hand as though to say, Let’s hear it.
  • Replied with a terse thanks
  • Sinister quality of his smooth tone cause her to open her eyes
  • could tell by the implacability of his eyes that her arguments hadn’t made a dent.  
  • She thought about that, then said,
  • She sat up slowly, ears tuned
  • Paused just long enough to make sure that sank in
  • In stops and starts, her speech so rapid that words stumbled over themselves
  • “No effing way.”  
  • On a sharp look from him, he rushed on.
  • Practically having to unclench his teeth to get the words out
  • Drop a few words: “Got run over by a car” instead of “Yes, run over by a car.”  Cut the fat.
  • Dialogue: curve the line: Original: “Something’s going on here, because every Jewish guy I see is making a play for me.” After: “Something’s going on here, because every able-bodied Israelite in the county is goin’ pretty strong to the hoop.”  
  • Spice up dialogue: “I’m no snitch.” “Smitty, if the price was right, you’d sell your mother as a sex slave to a gang of vandals.” “Already did,” he called to Crawford as he went out. “They brought the sorry bitch back.”
  • Stung by her incredulous tone, he took a defensive stance
  • The statement snapped him back into the present
  • Parted her lips to speak, but nothing came out
  • Brought her up short
  • When she expressed concern for him, he hedged, mumbling that he was fine.
  • He had to talk around the lump that formed in his throat
  • Dialogue: Avoid responding directly to the line before like an echo.  
  • What are your characters feeling while exchanging dialogue? Try expressing it with the sound of silence.  
  • He deadpanned
  • “Well,” was all he said.
  • He muttered something she couldn’t decipher, but his tone was disdainful
  • I’m not going to get all”—she circled her index fingers in the air—“and say   
  • “I’m not sure what—” “What that means is,” he said, cutting her off,

Direction

  • Pointing/nudging/hitching his chin in the detective’s direction

Dressing/Undressing

  • Pealed out of her blouse so fast it might have been air.  
  • without even bothering to unbutton his shirt, pulled it off over his head. 
  • Shrugged off a coat
  • The coat swallowed her

Embarrassed

  • Even in the dark she could see he flushed a little

Eyes/Gaze/See

  • Stare could have blistered paint
  • Looked aside, curing under his breath
  • ran steady hazel eyes over the space. 
  • Shifted in his seat, looked away, came back to her.
  • She waited until he glanced over
  • Something—a slyness—came and went in his eyes
  • Blinked trickles of sweat from his eyes
  • How shadowed her eyes
  • He squeezes his eyes closed to think then opens them again, noe the wiser
  • slid his gaze toward the hallway that led to the bedroom,
  • Limpid eyes: undarkened, clear, unclouded
  • Glowering with more malevolence than usual
  • Feverish light in his eyes
  • Opalescent: showing varying colors. Opalescent gaze
  • the don’t-make-me-kick-your-ass attitude/stare/glare
  • Xander sent her a lazy look. 
  • His eyes, open and slumberous, met hers
  • Glanced at her empty mug of coffee, wished more would magically appear
  • Shot him a quelling look
  • She eat up the sight of his rare grin
  • Eyes cut to her
  • Flicked him the quickest and coolest of glances
  • Eyes glinted at her from shadowed sockets
  • Fired at him out of dark eyes
  • Fluttered long lashes over dark brown eyes
  • She could see his eyes glint in the oncoming dusk, glint as they seemed to look right into hers
  • The dog gave her an exhausted, hopeful stare. 
  • felt herself battered with the love his gaze sent out. 
  • The sunglasses might have blocked Mason’s eyes, but Xander knew they narrowed and assessed.  
  • Surprised blink
  • His glare stayed fixed on her.  
  • Those eyes kindled/blistered/fevered/enkindled now with pure rage/defiance/wrath/contempt
  • Looking as dour as an undertaker
  • closed his eyes briefly, and when he reopened them, they were bright with an intensity of feeling.  
  • Divided a look between the two adversaries
  • His eyebrows came together in a half-frown
  • took her breath away with one long, steady stare
  • Gave her a long look, then nodded.
  • Shot a significant glance toward . . .
  • Held his gaze for a beat
  • Scrutinized him
  • Her eyes were feline
  • He narrowed his eyes as she grinned
  • Shot him a menacing look
  • His eyes snagged her heart
  • Eyes stabbed at him, lethal as knives. They wounded him, those eyes, spilled blood she couldn’t see.
  • his gaze snapped to hers, hot blue and intense
  • Flicked a glace at him, barely a heartbeat
  • Pressed her fingers to her eyes; ordered herself to deal with it.
  • For several seconds he looked at her as though she’d spoken in a foreign language,
  • Gave him a look that would drive nails
  • Eyes wild with panic
  • Gaze skim up as she drove
  • Noticed the triumph and gleam in his eyes
  • Looked out at the water, into oncoming evening
  • He shot him a querulous (petulant, whining) look
  • Under his baleful (menacing) stare, he squirmed in his chair
  • He felt her chest hitch with a small hiccup that presaged tears
  • Squeezed his eyes shut to keep his own tears inside
  • Stared vacantly for a few seconds
  • Flicked a gaze over to Crawford, who was sitting as still as a stone beside her, his eyes fixed on her, taking in every word.
  • Their gazes held for several seconds
  • Held each other’s gaze for a moment
  • Cop-speak
  • Finally, addressing the floor, he said,
  • He blinked him into focus
  • A sharp look
  • Held a steady gaze
  • Glanced at him with disbelief
  • Regarding him with scorn

Facial Expressions

  • He stared down at the toes of his boots and for several moments seemed immersed in the memory
  • Smug tilt at one corner of the detective’s lips signaled that he wasn’t going to like what was coming.
  • Screwed up his face as though thinking hard
  • His face went hart, went cold
  • She gave him a look that said he knew the reason. And he did.
  • Self-satisfied smirk
  • Pulled her lower lip through her teeth in distress
  • His lips pressed together as he looked off and away
  • She read his face
  • Scowl moved over her face
  • There was enough in his tone, in his eyes to tell her there was trouble.
  • Swallowed and bobbed his head in complete understanding
  • Lips parted in disbelief
  • Kept his features stony
  • At the mention of their names Crawford’s blood ran cold. Still, he kept his features schooled
  • Pruned her face
  • He smiled with a chagrin that made him human and likable
  • She had the grace to look chagrined (feeling distressed, troubled, or annoyed because of humiliation, hurt pride, disappointment, or failure)
  • Set his teeth on edge
  • Cheeks pinkened like a Christmas ham
  • worked his jaw horizontally. (side to side)
  • equal portions of fear and fury
  • instantly the pleasure on her face, in her heart, dissolved
  • Her brow knitted
  • Annoyance creased her brow
  • Puffed out his cheeks

Fright/Fear/Nervous/Stress

  • His heart clutched, then went stone cold
  • Fear blew through her again, one icy blast
  • Jagged ball of ice settled in her belly
  • His heart began to beat again
  • Watched her tense
  • A chill danced up her spine. 
  • Heart was galloping, wild horses. 
  • pressed her hand to her belly as it roiled. 
  • Hands turned slick with nervous perspiration
  • Her skin went hot, then cold, and her breath grew short and choppy
  • At last threw off the paralysis
  • Her scream of pain and fright and horror earned another grin from him
  • The rush of blood in her ears, the knock of her own heart, the snake of sweat slithering down her back
  • She heard the ragged whoosh of her own breath
  • Felt a buzz at the back of his skull
  • She rubbed the back of her neck, where the lion’s share of her stress had chosen to make camp

Friendship

  • “I should tell you, then, I’ve decided we’re going to be really good friends, and I’m just relentless.”
  • “I haven’t had a really good friend in a long time. I’m out of practice.”  

Gestures/Hand/Handshake/Hugs

  • He raised his shoulder, letting the gesture speak for him.
  • Closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index finger
  • Gestured that it hadn’t mattered
  • Dragged/raked his hand through his hair
  • Pressed a hand to her forehead, shoved it back through her hair.
  • Made a scissor motion with her fingers
  • Slapped her hand over her chest as though to keep her heart from leaping out
  • Thumped her chest as though jumpstarting her heart aj
  • Grinding out a cigarette
  • Made of show of dusting his hands
  • Held up a hand, thumped the other over her heart
  • He waved a hand
  • Pitching the bridge of his nose
  • Massaged the space between her eyebrows with the pad of her middle finger
  • He pressed his thumb and middle finder into his eye sockets and stifled a groan
  • Covered his face with his hands and slowly dragged them down
  • Rubbed her own arms as if to warm them
  • Laid hands on her shoulders
  • The hands in his pockets jingled loose change.
  • She picked up her wine/coffee, took a slow sip
  • Tapped her fingers on the table
  • Dragged/raked/tunneled her hand/fingers through her hair
  • Trailed a finger down her cheek
  • Hitched his chin toward the door
  • Less a social courtesy than an arm-wrestling match.  
  • He made a show of looking at his wristwatch
  • He kneaded/rubbed the back of his neck
  • He stopped in the act of pouring himself a cup of coffee.
  • Clasped her hands together on the tabletop
  • Rubbing her temples as though they ached
  • He touched his eyebrow in a quasi-salute.
  • “Yesterday, a hero. Today?” He made a face and waggled his hand. 
  • He raised his shoulder, a nonverbal, uncommitted answer.  
  • The club owner slapped the area of his heart. “That hurts, that really does.”  
  • Reached behind him and groped for the light switch, flipping it on
  • Head angled/cocked/hitched/canted
  • Wiped his runny nose on his sleeve as he nodded
  • Mimicked drinking a cup of coffee so his wife would take the hint
  • Jerked a shoulder
  • Already battling a vague headache, she rubbed at her temple.
  • Whistled, or tried to. His lips were too rubbery to pucker.
  • Gave a curt nod
  • Folded/crossed her eyes across her midriff
  • Already shaking his head
  • Thumping his fist on his thigh in time to his words
  • He gave a purely masculine and unrepentant shrug
  • Then he shocked [name] by pulling him into a hug. It was clumsy, awkward for both of them, but it counted. They thumped each other on the back.
  • continued to run her fingertips over his face as though to assure herself that he was really there. 
  • Propped his fists on his hips
  • They remained in an awkward tableau until she invited everyone to sit down.
  • Hand arrested in midair
  • Pressing his thumb and middle finger into his eye sockets
  • rubbing her forehead as though to smudge the terrible images and make them easier to bear.  
  • He pressed a hand to his heart

Grip

  • She was having to white-knuckle the glass of water to keep it steady
  • Clutching in a cold death grip

Joy/Rapture/Laughter/Happiness

  • She laughed, and he heard the tears in it,  
  • He snuffled a mirthless laugh
  • He gave a harsh laugh
  • Any other time, Crawford would have laughed. But the situation was no laughing matter. 
  • He gave a nasty laugh
  • Gave an embarrassed laugh
  • Giddy with disbelief
  • Something inside her jittered, but she ignored it
  • Saw the pleasure light up his face
  • With eyes laughing
  • With a laughing hoot
  • Guffawed
  • Eyes twinkled with humor even as she narrowed them
  • Snuffled a laugh and nodded his head knowingly

Kiss

  • He hauled her in for a kiss
  • He could feel the moisture of her breath on his lips, taste it
  • He kissed her like he meant it, like this kiss was going to be the last thing he ever did on earth, and he was going to do it right, thoroughly, and leave nothing wanting.  
  • Kiss that caused a curling sensation low in her belly
  • The bold trespassing of his tongue
  • Drew her in to take her mouth
  • Tugged her over, pressed his mouth to hers
  • His mouth found hers
  • Captured her mouth with his
  • His mouth sampled and savored hers

Nature/Storms/Rain/Shadows

  • Mine: The sun fell and with it came silence
  • Shadows as smooth as still water
  • She studied him through the curtain of rain
  • Adrift on a sea of undulant shadows
  • Clutched/clenched fist of winter
  • His face/body/eyes skinned in shadows
  • Thunder mumbled overhead, over the rolling, muttering wind. The shimmer of lightning tossed all into an instant of relief, and brought a sick heaviness to her.
  • It was a dark night. The slender moon was obscured by a low ceiling of clouds.  

People Descriptions

  • She judged him early thirties, sandy hair curling out from under the cap. A good strong jaw, a compact build. He held out a hand. 
  • She could see him better now—a lot of dark, windblown hair, a sharp-boned profile under some scruff. A battered leather jacket, big hands on the knees of long legs. A hard and handsome face, a tough-guy face with the scruff, with the thick, windblown hair, a firm, full, unsmiling mouth.  
  • Since his clean-shaven court appearance, he’d grown a scruff
  • Deep, bold blue eyes
  • Moral cesspool
  • Lithe and long-legged
  • Smiled, revealing teeth that looked like old piano keys

Physical Appearance/Movements/Motion

  • Shoulder bones poked up like drawer pulls against her faded dress
  • Arched his back to work out the kinks
  • Blew on his coffee
  • Shoulders slumped
  • Squirmed with dislike over the reminder, but he couldn’t dispute it
  • Hugged her elbows
  • Tried to sidestep him, but he made a counter move and blocker her path
  • Knees went shaky
  • Her legs jellied on her
  • She started to wrench away, but he yanked her back
  • With sharp, jerky movements, she plucked the hat off her lap, set it on her head
  • Hugged herself
  • She came out of her chair, pushed it aside, and began pacing the area between the dresser and the foot of the bed.  
  • Stroked her cheek with the back of his hand
  • Took a handful of his shirt and pulled him back
  • He was [doing something] when the sudden blare of a car horn arrested him in motion.
  • Mistrusting herself to linger for even a second longer, she got out of the car/left
  • Shifted his weight and resettled more comfortably in the bed/chair

Nervousness

  • Her stomach tied up.
  • Stripped/shrugged off his coat
  • Flutter in her belly
  • The attention had spiders crawling over her skin.
  • Tripped and stumbled inside her
  • It made him nervous too. In fact, it made him queasy.
  • Relieved himself with gratitude
  • Watched her throat work before she spoke, enjoyed the fear.
  • Her heart skidded

Point of View Reversal Techniques

  • He could tell Jim was shocked to hear him say that
  • She took a deep breath, he believed in order to control her vexation
  • Her thoughts must have revisited that moment, too, because . . .
  • He knew what it had cost the guy to say that. He almost felt sorry for. But he remained unmoved.

Reaching/Grabbing/Holding

  • She slipped a hand in her pocket, closed it over her pocketknife

Relief/Resolution

  • Felt ridiculous relief

Resolution/Resolve/Commitment

  • His jaw granite, his stance combative

Sex/Love Scenes/Intimacy

  • Keeping his hands on the wall, he pressed into her softness with unmistakable implication, bending his head, and claiming her mouth with his.  
  • she went limp against him and allowed him complete access to her mouth.
  • His hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the back of it.  
  • A deep inhale caused her whole body to shudder.  
  • He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there
  • He laid his lips on hers, a brush, a rub. And her heart rolled over in her chest.
  • She took a deep breath, which shifted the topography under her t-shirt
  • She made a little sound, weepy pleasure, as she pressed him close
  • He didn’t go slow; he didn’t ease in. It was one bright, hot explosion followed by shuddering dark. His mouth covered, conquered, while his hands ran straight up her body as if they had every right, then down again.  She gripped the sides of his waist, fingers digging in. And let herself burn
  • When his mouth took hers it wasn’t for comfort, or to soothe, but to ignite. So that slow simmer, never fully banked, came roaring back to full, furious flame.  
  • his mouth so urgent?  
  • His hands skimmed up and down her sides. His mouth sampled and savored hers. And the heart that trembled for him began to beat for him, slow and thick.  
  • He gripped her hands, held tight as her fingers curled with his. “Look at me. Look at me. Lil.” She opened her eyes, saw his face washed in the reds and golds of firelight.  
  • He caught her hips, levered her up for a hard good-morning kiss.
  • He brushed his lips to hers, a teasing, then a sinking, sinking until it was drowning deep.  
  • And she whispered his name as his lips raced frantically down her body. 
  • Then it was all movement, mad, mindless. And when she broke again, he shattered with her.  
  • Helpless she floated up, felt herself all but shimmer. 
  • Sick with love.  
  • She arched up, shocked by the bolt of pleasure, the sheer strength of it.  their breath tangled.  
  • She shot over his shoulder so that sultry summer scent spilled over him.  She stopped, turned to him, into him, let herself just hold on.  
  • It blew through him, that storm of feeling, all but took his breath. For an instant he wondered how people lived this way, how they could carry so much for someone else inside them. 
  • Had to press the heel of her hand to her heart, order it to behave. 
  • And she began to move, a gentle, sinuous roll. Torturously arousing, a smoky, smoldering fire in the blood
  • spoke in a low rumble that was rich with carnal implications
  • Imprinted her body with his
  • one strong arm encircled her waist and firmly positioned her backside against an unquestionably aroused man.  
  • whimper of pleasure melded with a whine asking for more. his mouth was fastened to her breast. 
  • The heat of his mouth encompassed her. For precious moments, he did nothing else. Just that. Just there. A gentle suction held her with motionless and incredible intimacy. Until gradually he began to make love. 
  • Fondled her breast
  • Nestled her head against his neck
  • Wanted to strike him and climb him in equal measure
  • continued to run her fingertips over his face as though to assure herself that he was really there. 
  • Cove of her thighs
  • Ell of her shoulder and neck
  • She ran her hand down his arm until their fingers linked.
  • Insides went soft and jittery
  • His free hand snaked up, gripped the back of her nexk. And his mouth, hot, desperate, familiar, captured hers.

Sitting

  • He slumped in it, crossed his ankles, and gazed out the window while waiting for Neal to finish.   
  • Dropped back into his seat
  • propped one ankle on his opposite knee and rested his linked fingers on his midriff, settling in. 
  • He left his chair.  
  • Squirmed in his chair
  • Bounded/lurched out of the chair
  • Pushed out of her chair
  • He shifted in his chair, trying but failing to better fit his tall frame into the preformed plastic
  • He struggled to sit up and swung his feet to the floor, propped his elbows on his knees, and held his face in his hands as he . . .

Scent

  • Quaffing the scent of her hair aj

Sleep

  • Her head was muzzy from lack of sleep

Smiles/Grins

  • Gave her that cocky grin
  • Forced himself to smile.
  • The faintest hint of humor touched his mouth
  • Grinning after her
  • Cracked a smile
  • His lips curved
  • Spiking a conman smile
  • Added with a tight smile
  • She forced her lips to curve
  • Forced himself to chuckle
  • The smile that spread slowly across his face was intolerably smug
  • Gave a weak smile
  • He didn’t smile, nor did his eyes
  • His mouth and eyes unsmiling
  • Smile spread slowly
  • He grinned, ducked his head a little
  • Made her smile and mean it
  • Didn’t so much as blink at the quip, much less smile

Stand/Walk/Run/Move/Movement

  • Walked a slow circle in the confined space. When he’d made a complete three-sixty, he said,
  • He came to his feet
  • He pushed to his feet
  • Stamped through the house to the front door
  • Turned his back and stalked away
  • Started to walk away, then stopped
  • He lunged from the chair
  • He perched on the edge of his chair
  • He prowled her office like a caged lion
  • She boosted up to her toes and gave him a smacking kiss
  • Shifted his feet
  • Levered himself off the sofa
  • execute an about-face and steered him back into the corridor. 
  • By now they had reached the back door
  • With her in tow, he
  • He struck off running toward it
  • Plunged into the rain/night
  • Lunged to his feet, sending his chair over backward
  • Pushed back his chair and stood
  • Flounce: to go with impatient or impetuous, exaggerated movements: The star flounced out of the studio in a rage
  • Standing, legs spread, he squinted at the sky
  • Muscles in her legs wept

Surprise/Bewilderment

  • That hit him unexpectedly, and his heart bumped, then began to beat erratically.  
  • Choked on a gulp of coffee
  • lips parted in bewilderment over what had just happened.  

Sorrow/Crying/Tears

  • *knuckled a fresh tear away
  • Swiped at the tears
  • Went watery at the edges
  • Tears flooded up again
  • Eyes welled

Thoughts/Thinking

  • In his mind, Crawford was chanting swear words,
  • Mentally cursing
  • The cogs in the wheels of Crawford’s brain clicked into place and suddenly it all made sense.
  • He thought about that
  • Inside his head a clamor began
  • It etched an image in his mind
  • Nothing too obvious, she ordered herself
  • She thought, I’m yours, but kept the words to herself

Touch

  • She reached out, laid a hand over his, lightly, briefly. But is was all there in the touch. Comfort, sympathy, understanding
  • Cupped the back of her neck in his hand

Vocal Qualities

  • a voice that held just the right amount of smoke.  
  • Voice low and rusty
  • Misplaced constriction in her throat
  • Sound he made was part groan, part growl
  • Gave a skeptical grunt
  • Voice was like a rumble of distant thunder that warned of the violence packed into an approaching storm
  • Thickening windpipe
  • Voice cracked on her shout, and it shocked him into silence
  • His voice was gravel spilling down a steel chute
  • Quiet murmur was thick and shaky
  • The gravity of his tone stopped her
  • His insistent tone coaxed from her a small not of reluctant acquiescence
  • Writing Conventions
  • “Tonight, I want you, and if that doesn’t—” She broke off when he gave her a yank so her body met his. 
  • On a half sob . . .
  • “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

Exposition

“Show, don’t tell.” Narration is telling; exposition is showing. In trying to learn more about how to use exposition well in writing, I’ve found two perspectives particularly helpful. First, Jennifer Paros, in an essay, “The Ol’ ‘Show Don’t Tell’ Thing” counsels that authors should allow their reader to “enter a world, instead of just hearing about it.” Granted, this is just a different way to say “show, don’t tell” but in a way that might stick better.

Second, several authors refer to the Hemingway Iceberg principle. Hemingway described it this way:

If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. A writer who omits things because he does not know them only makes hollow places in his writing.

The challenge here, of course, is knowing what to include and what to omit. I will admit I probably tend to give too much detail and too little leading the reader gently to draw their own conclusions.

Given below are some examples, some good and some less good, of the use of exposition as food for thought.

Exposition vs Back Story

Exposition is part of a play or work of fiction in which the background to the main conflict is introduced.

Backstory is history or background especially created for a fictional character. You may have created a rich history and profile for your characters as part of the character’s backstory. A character’s backstory may include details from a previous work in a series. Elements of your character’s backstory may be appropriate for inclusion as exposition, but not all of it will necessarily be included in your story.

Why is exposition important?

  • Establish tone and voice.

Kira Jane Buxton introduces her readers to her protagonist, S.T., and her plot with imagery that hints at the themes that are to come: lots of creatures, the importance of trees, and a unique airborne perspective. Rather than just telling the reader what’s unfolding, she leaves it to the reader to begin to tease it out.

I should have known something was dangerously wrong long before I did. How do you miss something so critical? There were signs, signs that were slow as sap, that amber lava that swallows up a disease-kissed evergreen. Slow as a rattlesnake as it bleeds toward you, painting the grass with belly scales. But sometimes you only see the signs once you’re on the highest branch of realization. – Hollow Kingdom, Kira Jane Buxton

  • Relate circumstances important to advancing the story.

Neil Gaiman introduces his setting so simply: “It was only a duck pond.” It doesn’t take long for the reader to realize there is so much more to that duck pond. 

It was only a duck pond, out at the back of the farm. It wasn’t very big. – The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel, Neil Gaiman

  • Or not. Establish a feint, a misdirection, an expectation.

Chuck Wendig begins his book Wanderers with an introduction to the Sakamoto comet. He could have simply stated the fact, “Yumiko Sakamoto discovered a comet.” But Wendig’s “She discovered it, but she really didn’t mean to…” description leaves the reader, along with characters in the story, to determine what role – if any – the comet has in the unfolding events.  

The woman who discovered the comet, Yumiko Sakamoto, age twenty-eight, was an amateur astronomer in Okayama Prefecture, in the town of Kurashiki. She found it on a lark, looking instead for an entirely different comet – a comet that was expected to strike Jupiter. – Wanderers, Chuck Wendig

  • Explain relationships among characters.
  • Provide context for a character’s actions, reactions, and behavior.

In the first scene of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri by Martin McDonagh, the protagonist Mildred Hayes rents advertising space on three billboards that she uses to put the local police on notice for their failure to find her daughter’s killer. The opening scene conveys volumes about Mildred.  

  • Critical for world building, for example, in scifi and fantasy.

Techniques for Adding Exposition

  • Include in narrative.
  • Include via dialogue.
  • Include via internal monologue.
  • Start in the past.
  • Start in the present, then flashback in time.
  • Go back and forth in time.
  • Insert memories.
  • Shift perspective.
  • Include footnotes.
  • In screenplays, use title cards (think Star Wars).

Effective use of exposition – Do’s

  • Include only what is needed: ground the scene or provide the reader context to understand what’s happening.
  • Use exposition in moderation – if you’re describing or explaining something in the story, the action has stopped.
  • Tie exposition to the conflict in your story to help ensure that you’re not introducing extraneous background that will deflect from your plot.
  • Balance exposition and narration with action and imagery.
  • Aim for Hemingway’s iceberg – just enough information that the reader can tease out for themselves what’s important about your characters, scenes, and plot.

Betsy provided an excellent example – the beginning of Twisted Twenty Six, by Janet Evonovich:

Some men enter a woman’s life and screw it up forever.  Jimmy Rosolli did this to my Grandma Mazur. Not forever, but for an afternoon last week when he married her in the casino at Atlantis and dropped dead forty-five minutes later.

So far as I know, the trip to the Bahamas was a last-minute decision, and the marriage was even more unplanned.  I guess they were just a couple of wild-and-crazy seniors having a moment.

My name is Stephanie Plum. I’m five seven with shoulder-length brown hair that curls whether I want it to or not. I’ve inherited a good metabolism from my mother’s Hungarian side of the family, so I can eat cheeseburgers and Haagen-Dazs and still button my jeans. The hair and a bunch of rude hand gestures I get from my father’s Italian ancestry. – Twisted Twenty Six, Janet Evonovich

I agree with Betsy: “In three paragraphs we know the main character is feisty, can eat anything, has lots of personality in her family and has a problem on her hands with Grandma Mazjur. The description of her out of control hair and rude gestures indicates she probably flies by the seat of her pants most of the time. Even if you haven’t read the prior 25 books, you get a clear idea of who you are dealing with.” Evonovich could have just told the reader those things: My name is Stephanie Plum. My father was Italian. My grandmother liked to travel… but we wouldn’t get the delightful color and context that she provided in her introduction through exposition.

Challenges to effective use of exposition – Don’ts

  • Starting a story or chapter with too much exposition, burying the start of action under pages of background.

See Danee’s Dilemma, Chapter 1 Before and After, below. Diana originally started her story with a lot of backstory, and seemed like she was trying to tell the whole story in the first few paragraphs. She revised her first chapter to jump right into the action, introducing her protagonist and a more indirect introduction to some of the challenges Danee will face with respect to her relationship to her grandma.  

DANEE’S DILEMMA, CHAPTER 1, BEFORE Grandma Talley’s haunting words clutter my mind. The words she’d blurted out two years ago while standing over her beloved Arthur’s deathbed. It’s difficult to focus on what Ms. Stevens is saying. The rain starts beating on the windows and brings me back to the here and now. Skinny, nervous Ms. Stevens, my Psycho/Social nursing instructor, is pacing in front of the class. “Students, I’m giving you a journal assignment for this quarter.” I sit up straighter.  I’m a first year nursing student working on my associate degree. I didn’t always want to be a nurse—not until after I’d watched my comatose Grandpa neglected in a narrow nursing home bed with dull, metal side rails. It had been in the month of October, the time of year when the cool, dry air sucks the moisture out of the leaves causing them to lose their grip and flutter to the ground. It had been the time of year when I decided I wanted to become a nurse instead of an elementary school teacher. I’d make a better nurse than those nursing home nurses, I told myself. They didn’t care. I found out later they were just too overworked to care.    I think about that day in October–I think about it a lot. Grandma Sara and I’d sat for hours in plastic patio chairs next to Grandpa’s nursing home bed watching his almost lifeless body linger. Grandma had worn her full-length denim skirt, a bright blue turtleneck sweater, white ankle socks, and Reebok tennis shoes. Her short, chunky arm rested across Grandpa’s sunken chest.
DANEE’S DILEMMA, CHAPTER 1, AFTER We turn off Highway 12 onto the main boulevard of Ocean Waves, Washington, a small coastal town. “It’s good to be back,” I say. Yet coming home without Mama here makes my heart ache. Tyler lets out a big sigh. “Remind me not to do an all-night drive again. If our paychecks hadn’t been late, we could have gotten here in plenty of time before WSU’s registration ends today. It’s a wonder we didn’t crash.” “Yeah, that’s a miracle.” I sip the last of my energy drink. “I did enjoy spending the summer in warm, sunny California, though.” Tyler gives me a quick glance with narrowed eyes and then focuses again on the road as he drives. “Yeah, you had it good enjoying the cool breeze while serving tables outside. You weren’t stuck in the kitchen flipping greasy burgers all day. Several times I felt like I’d pass out from the heat.” My body tenses. Oh, geez. Is he trying to make me feel guilty? “I would have traded you places, except the boss wanted me working in the waterfront section.” “Because you’re prettier than me.” “What?” I try to think of something to change the subject before our discussion gets heated. Then Tyler pats my hand. “Thanks.” “Thanks?” I ask.   “For being my friend. When most of the kids wouldn’t talk to me at school, you always did.” That’s kind of him to say. I feel warm inside. “I consider you my best friend.” I look over at Tyler. He blushes and straightens his slender physique. He’s wearing the same tank top and shorts from when we left California last evening. “Tyler,” I shriek when noticing his plum-colored fingernails. His head whips around. The car swerves. “What?” “You still have polish on. I’m pretty sure Californians don’t think much of it when men wear that stuff, but people up here can be cruel.” He raises his fingers off the steering wheel, and his eyes widen as he stares at his nails. “Oh, man. I’ve got to get this junk off before I get home. My parents can’t see this. Do you have some remover?” “Nope. You don’t?” I ask him. “I guess I wasn’t thinking far enough ahead. I’ll stop at the Mini Mart. Will you run in and buy some?” he begs. “I don’t want anyone seeing me.” A bit later, with polish-remover fumes overpowering the air inside the car, we pull onto Bass Road where I live with my grandparents. They raised me and are wonderful, loving people, except a little on the overprotective side. They were against my trip with Tyler even though I’m eighteen, a new high school graduate, and legally an adult. I think they’re afraid of losing me like they lost Mama. I hated going against their wishes, but I needed some breathing room. “Good luck, Danee,” Tyler hollers after dumping me and my luggage off at my grandparents’ cedar-shingled house at the edge of Goose Lake. He backs his beat-up Subaru station wagon out the gravel driveway and tears away like he saw a ghost.  
  • Introducing all your characters and plot points in chapter one.

Betsy Dickinson described an example of an author trying to introduce all the characters and all the story conflicts in the first chapter. “I picked a book from my free Amazon Prime books that looked like a great suspense story. The setting of the first chapter was a neighborhood party. The author introduced all the characters and their full backstories (including parenthesis – an average of two or three per page) in the first chapter. There was too much information and I had no clue as to who her main characters were. The way it looked, there were at least 10 people I would need to keep track of. I never read chapter 2. There were hints that perhaps someone was having an affair and that couples were lying to each other, but not enough about their actions to help me understand where the plot might go.”

“For my pea-brain [Editor’s note: Betsy does NOT have a pea brain.] I like characters to be introduced as the story progresses. I don’t want to have to work to remember who they are and why they are important to the story. They have to mean something to the main characters and to the plot. I prefer the suspense of trying to figure out why characters are doing what they do. Giving it to me all at once gives me no reason to continue reading.”

  • Starting a story or chapter in the middle of the action, followed by pages of background.
  • Not enough background: your characters are suspended in time, space, and circumstance, leaving your readers untethered.

Just one example of many from my WIP, Rash, helpfully pointed out by my dear critique partners. I drop my characters – and my readers – in Vienna, which I say is rocking, but don’t provide any exposition (or description for that matter) for the readers to come to that conclusion themselves.

“Vienna looks like a rocking city,” Kayden said. Once they got checked into their hotel, the four took to the streets to explore the city.

“I may have to put this on my list to come back and visit again.” Piper said.

Sadly, it doesn’t get better for paragraphs and paragraphs. Learn from my shortcomings: use exposition to enable your readers to enter the world you’ve imagined for them rather than just telling them how great it is.

  • Adding background that doesn’t contribute to the character’s goals, motivations, or conflicts and doesn’t help advance the story.
  • Resist the temptation to drop in tidbits at the point you realize you need them; makes it seem contrived.

I found this book, Missing Sister, a debut novel by author Elle Marr. It starts off well and is generally well written, but when the protagonist travels to Paris to see what she can find out about her sister’s death, Marr used this line “Thanks to a trip to France …” as a mechanism to tell the reader that her character was familiar with Montmartre. It was a small thing, but it seemed contrived to me.

I set down my duffel bag before the austere wooden entrance to Angela’s building. Thanks to a trip to France we took as a family, I recall Montmartre was the center of Parisian street are about a century ago. Artists splay in chairs beside colorful tableaus or black-and-white photographs every five feet. – Missing Sister, by Elle Marr

  • Avoid relating information among your characters that they would already know as a way to convey background to the reader.

References, Additional Information

  1. Lexico. https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/exposition
  2. Jennifer Paros: The Ol’ “Show Don’t Tell” Thing; https://www.authormagazine.org/archives/2015/2/1/the-ol-show-dont-tell-thing
  3. Alan Rinzler: Ask the editor: Tips for blending in the backstory; February 8, 2010. https://alanrinzler.com/2010/02/ask-the-editor-tips-for-blending-in-the-backstory
  4. Mellanie Szereto: Backstory vs. Exposition; January 10, 2018. https://contemporaryromance.org/2018/01/backstory-vs-exposition
  5. Harvey Chapman: Handling the Exposition of a Story. https://www.novel-writing-help.com/exposition-of-a-story.html
  6. Julia Houston: World Building: How to Cut Down on Exposition; January 22, 2018. https://proofreadingpal.com/proofreading-pulse/writing-fiction/world-building-how-to-cut-down-on-exposition

Flash Fiction Flash Newsletters from Pamelyn Casto, #198, February 2020

Check out the Feb 2020 edition of Pamelyn Casto’s Flash Fiction Flash Newsletter here: Flash Fiction Flash Newsletter Issue 198 February 2020

Click on ‘Messages’ in the upper left corner.

Flash Fiction Flash Newsletters from Pamelyn Casto

Pamelyn Casto edits a newsletter devoted to markets, contests, and publishing news for short-short literature 1,500 words or fewer (including flash fiction, short-short fiction, sudden fiction, prose poetry, haibun, flash memoirs, flash creative nonfiction, flash plays, and podcasts).

She invites writers to subscribe to the newsletter. To subscribe, send a blank email message to FlashFictionFlash+Subscribe@groups.io (be sure to include the plus sign before “subscribe” in the address) or go to https://groups.io/g/FlashFictionFlash and follow instructions there.

For past newsletters, go here: https://groups.io/g/FlashFictionFlash/topics

Congratulations, Jeanette Mendell!

Jeannette Mendell was selected as 1st Place Winner in the 2019 PNWA Literary Contest for Middle Grade Authors for her book, Kea Thief.

Prepare to Read Your Book!

Reading excerpts of your book to potential readers is a great way to

  • Sell your book.
  • Stay in touch with readers who know you.
  • Introduce new readers to your work.
  • Build word of mouth about your book.
  • Find out what excites your readers and what doesn’t work for them.
  • Let readers hear your literary voice.
  • Establish relationships with local booksellers.

Before your first reading:

Identify candidate venues

Plan the Reading, Depending on the Audience

  • Decide on background information
  • Consider doing more than a reading, e.g. Maureen McQuerry hosted a scavenger hunt
  • Choose the passages to share
  • Add a costume or props
  • Make sure you have a way to end the reading and “get off the stage”. “That’s all I have, I’d be glad to take questions” can be useful. Or, telling your audience “thank you for coming” always works!

Prepare a Press Kit

  • Bio
  • Contact information
  • Sample Q&As or Tip Sheet about the book
  • Press Release
  • Photographs, including a head shot
  • One Sheet or Sell Sheet
    • Title
    • Author
    • Genre/Price/# of pages
    • ISBN
    • Publication date
    • Synopsis
    • Formats available
    • Territories sold
    • Thumbnail of cover
    • Thumbnail of author photo
    • Reviews

Once You Have a Reading Scheduled:

Advertise

  • On your Facebook page and other social media
  • Blog
  • Mailing list
  • Contact the local newspaper(s) with details of the reading

Prepare handouts and/or swag for participants

  • Bookmarks
  • Postcards
  • Specialty – e.g. relevant fact sheet for nonfiction

At the Reading:

  • Make sure you talk to your host so that you know:
    • how and where the audience can (and can’t) buy your book (from you, at the counter, bring previously purchased)
    • how and where any book signing will occur.
  • Take extra copies of your book to sell, either directly or through the event host, in case the host doesn’t have enough.
  • Provide a sign-up sheet for people to add their emails for updates on publication dates and subsequent books (check with the host first to make sure it’s ok).
  • Take pictures of the people who came – or a selfie with the audience in the background.

After the reading:

  • Plan for downtime following the reading away from the venue or e.g. in an attached café or coffee shop; invite audience to stop by and/or join you.
  • Post a summary of the event and pictures to the events page of your website.
  • Post a summary of the event and pictures to your social media.
  • Follow up with a thank you note, and an offer to come back in the future if desired. Share the postings from your social media or website with the host in case they can use them in their own communications.

Resources:

Justina Ireland, On Openings – A Twitter Thread

Justina Ireland; @justinaireland, March 13, 2018

Writers, gather round. Let’s talk about openings. Most especially: establishing scenes and the promise of the story. The promise of the story is the aboutness of your book. Not necessarily the theme, it’s the point of the story.

At some point the conventional wisdom became that writers should start their stories as close to the inciting incident as possible. And while true, that doesn’t mean you start your story in the inciting incident. We need to spend some time in the normal world.

This in movies is the establishing shot, it’s Scott Pilgrim practicing with Sex-Bob-Omb, it’s John McClane talking about messing up his marriage with a limo driver, it’s Buttercup and Wesley on the farm. It gives the viewer a frame of reference before adventure starts.

As a writer, you have to show your character in the environment where they’re most comfortable before putting them through hell. Or put them in an environment where they’re uncomfortable and explain to the reader why. But it has to be rather benign.

You do that to give the reader time to form an emotional connection with a character, to show them what they’re about. Same way as when you meet someone IRL. Usually folks do [no?]t open with their deepest darkest secret. They open with best behavior. (Whatever that might be)

And once you’ve set up the establishing shot/moment (this might be a bit longer for worlds that have to be built) you launch into the inciting event. For me, this rule of thumb is usually by 5-10% of the way through a story (it isn’t an exact science).

If you want to see how this is done well, watch a Marvel movie. Seriously. The beats in a Marvel movie are usually air tight. Disney movies also follow this super well, think about Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast.

There are a lot of writers that will pooh-pooh looking at movies to learn narrative structure, but movies are a great way to understand how story works. And once you understand what works, you are free to experiment and dare to change those story frames.

Looking at recent books: THUG doesn’t start at the moment of the shooting. It starts with Starr at a party in her neighborhood, being uncomfortable because she attends a private school.

This gives the reader a clear entry into the kind of person she is, and it gives context to the inciting incident (the shooting). If the story started at the shooting it would be harder for readers to connect with Starr. The scene resonates because the connection already exists.

So when you hear the promise of the story, it’s the combination of that establishing shot and that inciting incident. Billy Madison: an affluent man child must redo K-12 to inherit his father’s fortune. Black Panther: T’Challa must learn what it means to be a king.

(This is where I point out that each of your characters in a story should have an establishing shot and inciting incident woven into the larger narrative but that’s a maste[r] class).

Andrea Phillips, Leave Nothing to Chance – A Twitter Thread

Andrea Phillips; @andrhia; Oct 5, 2017

Heyyyy I’m sick, overwhelmed, and everything is terrible, so here’s a thread on craft and how writing for multimedia made me better at prose. I’ve written scripts for video and audio, several kinds of games text and dialogue, social media of every kind, news both real and fictional. Friends, if there is such a thing as a generalist writer, it is me. I have written ALL the things, and you learn from each distinct form.

One of the first and biggest things I learned about narrative was: leave nothing to chance, control everything in your story, EVERYTHING. If you’re making a fake Twitter for a character… the profile pic matters, the bio matters, when/how often they post, emoji and abbrevs. Every single one is going to influence the audience’s opinion of the character and who they are, so you have to be v. intentional. And you have to be both consistent and aware of what messages each of these creative choices is sending!

Similarly, in video production the lighting and framing matter, the things in the background of the shot, the hair and clothes. These things will EXIST in your final product whether you chose them or not, so you need to make sure it all fits together. Even an empty room or a missing profile picture MEAN something. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice, etc. etc.

In audio, if you need a visual, you need someone to SAY it, which can make for awkward dialogue (or a super hot sound engineer). So you need to develop a keen awareness of what your audience needs to “see,” and do it early so it doesn’t disrupt their mental image. Because storytelling is the fine art of manipulating someone else’s mental imagery, right? Their understanding of a series of events.

But the more abstracted a medium is, the harder you have to work to create a correct mental image, the more you have to describe. So prose is the most abstract medium of all. There is a nothingness, devoid of form and light, until the author speaks. BUT once the author begins the reader starts to drag in a lot of their own ideas into the story, too, based on their experience of the world. Sometimes this is MARVELOUS because you do not want to have to describe every item on a table or every whisker on a face.

In film you need to choose every book that goes on a shelf. Every single one. On purpose. In prose, you can say “some paperbacks” and run. But remember upthread! IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO DECIDE, YOU STILL HAVE MADE A CHOICE!

If you mention a detail without sufficient clarity, the reader will fill it in their own selves… and maybe guess wrong…

In prose, as in audio, you have to figure out what *very few* things you need to get across the right mental image, and use them.

Which in turn means understanding webs of associations in our society, and understanding your characters and story world super well.

Hence the telling detail, right? Lots of us stick to very basic description: She had dark hair and wore a suit. Just the facts. But that’s not enough. That’s filming in an empty white room. Compare with: “She had frizz for miles and yesterday’s burrito on her jacket.”

The first one is a picture, sure, fine, but it doesn’t tell you anything about the character; it’s not doing enough work to earn its keep. This is because you (or I guess me) can leverage the reader’s expectations about what burrito stains and frizzy hair MEAN about a person.

But this isn’t limited to a description issue, because this is the case with literally every word you write. It is doing a job. Sometimes that job is to be invisible and let the story flow over it. “Said,” I am looking at you right now. Sometimes that job is manipulating the reader’s mental image, expectations, and emotional state to arrive at a specific place.

In EVERY case, in prose, each word, line, scene, chapter are doing work. Even if you do not know what that work is. So… pay attention.

Riiiggghhhht I think that’s about enough for right now, love you all, and good night!