For example, in the first chapter of Stephenie Meyer’s massively popular novel Twilight, all of the basic conflicts are established: Bella Swan, the heroine, has moved to a new place where she doesn’t feel comfortable or know anyone, and she meets the mysterious hero, Edward Cullen, who makes her uncomfortable but whom she also feels drawn to. This conflict, that she’s interested in a person she’s also confused by, sets the rest of the action in motion. One of the inspirations for Twilight, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, also sets up a central problem within the first chapter: a new, eligible bachelor has moved into town and the heroine’s mother is desperate to set up one of her daughters with him because the family is poor and needs to marry off the daughters for them to have a hope of comfort in their later lives. The problem of finding husbands for these women forms a major part of the novel, as does the challenge of the mother’s troublesome meddling.
For example, whether or not a heroine gets to be in a relationship with the person she loves probably isn’t going to be the end of the world for everyone else, but it is something that should be very important for the character. Sometimes, the stakes literally are the end of the world, such as in J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series, in which the characters’ failure to destroy the One Ring will result in the destruction of Middle Earth by evil. These types of stakes are usually best reserved for fantasy and epics.
This type of expository dialogue is sometimes called “info-logue. ” While it may be an easy way to give the reader background information, it tends to sound unnatural unless it is handled very carefully. Using info-logue is a common mistake among beginning writers. For example, Charlaine Harris’s popular Sookie Stackhouse novels have a bad tendency to spend the first few chapters of every book “catching up” on everything that happened in previous books. The narrator will also frequently drop in to explicitly remind the reader of who a character is and what their function is. This can get in the way of smooth storytelling and distract the reader from engaging with the characters. There are exceptions to this rule. For example, if you have a mentor-mentee relationship between characters, you may be able to include more exposition in their interactions. A good example of this is the relationship between Haymitch Abernathy and his mentees Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games series. Haymitch can explain some of the rules of the Hunger Games and how to do well in the competition in his dialogue because that’s explicitly his job. Even in situations such as this, though, don’t overload dialogue with factual world-building.
For example, you could have a romance novel in which it’s hard to see how the characters will end up happily ever after because of the situations they’re in or their personality flaws. The surprise for readers will be how things do end up working out in the end, despite all appearances to the contrary. Don’t, however, fall for the “it was all a dream” trick. Ending twists that negate everything about the story that preceded them very rarely work out well, as readers generally feel as though they’ve been deceived or tricked.
For example, instead of writing something like Yao was upset, which tells, give the character something to do to show the reader what’s going on: Yao clenched his fists and color rushed to his face shows the reader that Yao’s upset without having to tell them. Be wary of this in dialogue tags, too. Consider this sentence: ”Let’s go,” said Jenna impatiently. ” It’s telling the reader that Jenna is impatient, but it’s not showing. Now consider this sentence: “Let’s go!” Jenna snapped, tapping her foot on the floor. Readers still understand that Jenna is feeling impatient, but you haven’t had to tell them; you’ve shown them.
Just keep in mind that not all experiments work out, so don’t feel bad if you try something new and it doesn’t quite produce what you wanted.
Start with what you know. If you’re from a small town in rural Alabama, you may want to start off by thinking about stories you could tell about similar settings. If you want to write about something you don’t know, do your research. Trying to write a mythological story about Norse gods in modern settings could be fun, but if you don’t know anything about mythology, it’s not likely to be successful. Similarly, if you want to write a historical romance set in Regency England, you’ll probably have to do some research about social conventions and the like if you want your novel to appeal to readers. Make lists of random things: “the curtain,” “the cat,” “the investigator,” etc. Take each word and add a few things. Where is it? What is it? When is it? Make up a paragraph about it. Why is it where it is? When did it get there? How? What does it look like? Make up some characters. What is their age? When were they born, and where? Do they live in this world? What is the name of the city they are in now? What is their name, age, gender, height, weight, hair color, eye color, ethnic background? Try making a map. Draw a blob and make it an island, or draw lines indicating rivers. Who lives in this place? What would they need to do to survive in it?
Your “journal” doesn’t have to be a diary or notebook. You can write notes in a memo app on your phone or even on sticky notes.
Describe: What is it? (A ceremony that results in the marriage of two people; a party or celebration; a ritual) Compare: What is it like or not like? (Like: other religious rituals, other types of parties; Not like: an average day) Associate: What else does it make you think of? (Expenses, dresses, church, flowers, relationships, arguments) Analyze: What parts or elements is it made up of? (Usually, a bride, a groom, a wedding dress, a cake, some guests, a venue, some vows, decorations; figuratively, stress, excitement, exhaustion, happiness) Apply: How is it used? How could it be used? (Used to unite two people in a legal contract of marriage) Evaluate: How can it be supported or opposed? (Supported: people who love each other get married to be happy together; Opposed: some people get married for bad reasons)
Mind maps are a useful way of organizing any type of information in a concise, visual way. They can help you visualize how different characters and other elements of your story are connected to one another and make it easier for you to remember key concepts. [8] X Research source If you need help getting your mind map started, consider using software or an app such as Mindmeister, iMindMap, or SpiderScribe.
Putting your characters in a variety of situations will help you decide what conflicts they may face and how they could handle them. This exercise can also help you determine what’s most important to your character(s) and whom they might (and might not) connect with.
For setting, ask yourself questions like these: When is it? Is it in the present? The future? The past? More than one? What’s the season? Is it cold, hot or mild? Is it stormy? Where is it? Is it in this world? A different world? An alternate universe? What country? City? Province/State? For plot, ask yourself questions like these: Who is in it? What is their role? Are they good or bad? What flaws do they have? What goals do they have? What is the precipitating incident that made this story happen in the first place? Is there something that happened in the past that could affect what happens in the future? Even if you start in the middle of the action, it’s important that you already have an idea of what happened beforehand. Even if you only imply or hint at the events that took place before the start of your story, it will be easier for you to be internally consistent and for your readers to fill in the blanks if there’s an established backstory.
Fiction written in first person (usually, the narrator uses “I”) can emotionally engage your reader because they will identify with the narrator. You can’t get into the heads of other characters as much, however, because you have to restrict the narration to what your central character could know or experience. Charlotte Brontë’s novel Jane Eyre is an example of a novel written in first person. Fiction written in third person limited does not use “I” pronouns. The story is told from the POV of one character, relating only what they can see, know, and experience. It is a very common POV for fiction, because readers can usually still easily connect with the characters. Stories told this way can focus exclusively on the POV of one character (for example, the main character in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story “The Yellow Wallpaper”) or can shift between multiple characters (for example, the POV chapters devoted to different characters in the Game of Thrones books, or the alternating POV chapters between heroine and hero in most category romance novels). If you do shift between POV, be very clear when this has occurred by using a chapter or section break, or clear chapter labels. Fiction written in third-person objective limits itself to only what is seen or heard by the narrator. This type of POV is difficult to pull off, because you can’t go inside a character’s head and explain motivations or thoughts, so it can be difficult for readers to feel connected to the characters. However, it can be used effectively; for example, many of Ernest Hemingway’s short stories are written in third-person objective. Fiction written in third person omniscient allows you to know everything about everyone’s thoughts, feelings, experiences, and actions. The narrator can go into any character’s head and can even tell the reader things that no characters know, such as secrets or mysterious events. The narrators of Dan Brown’s books are usually third-person omniscient narrators. [10] X Research source Second person narratives draw the reader into the story by putting them in the role of the narrator/POV character. They use “you” instead of “I” or “he/she/they. ” For example: “It is November, but the early chill of winter is already creeping into your bones. You pull your scarf up over your nose to shield it from the frosty air. ”
If you’re more of a computer person, a software program like Scrivener may help you get started. These programs let you write multiple little documents, such as character profiles and plot summaries, and keep them all in the same place.
While in real everyday speech, people often repeat themselves and use filler words such as “um” and “uh,” use these sparingly on paper. They can end up distracting the reader if overused. Use your dialogue to forward the story or show something about a character. While people do have meaningless or shallow conversations all the time in real life, they’re not interesting to read on paper. Use the dialogue to convey the emotional state of a character, set a conflict or plot point in motion, or hint at what’s going on in a scene without stating it directly. Try not to use dialogue that is too on the nose. For example, if you’re writing about a couple’s unhappy marriage, your characters probably shouldn’t explicitly tell each other “I’m unhappy with our marriage. ” Instead, show their anger and frustration through dialogue. For example, you could have one character ask the other what they want for breakfast and have that character respond with an answer that’s not related to the question in any way. This shows that the characters are having trouble listening to each other and communicating effectively without having to have one of them say “We’re not communicating effectively. ”
For example, if your main character is terrified of flying because she survived a plane crash as a child, she wouldn’t casually take a flight to another state because the plot needs her to go there. Similarly, if your hero has had his heart broken by former loves and has become emotionally withdrawn, he can’t suddenly decide he’s in love with the heroine and pursue her without reservation. People don’t act that way in real life, and readers expect realism even in fantasy situations.
While you’re reading it, use a red pen to make any notes or corrections you want. In fact, make lots of notes. Think of a better word? Want to switch some sentences? Does that dialogue sound too immature? Think that cat should really be a dog? Note those changes! Read your story aloud, because this helps you find mistakes.
Don’t be afraid to cut out words, paragraphs, and even entire sections. Most people pad their stories with extraneous words or passages. Cut, cut, cut. That is the key to success.
For example, consider this sentence from Stephenie Meyer’s New Moon: “‘Hurry, Bella,’ Alice interrupted urgently. ” Interrupting is itself an urgent action: it puts a stop to another action. The adverb doesn’t actually add anything to the action. In fact, this sentence doesn’t even need a dialogue tag; you can show one character interrupting another by using an em-dash, like this:“Sure,” I said, “I was just ab–”“Come on already!”
Consider this advice from playwright Anton Chekhov: “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ” This advice also points out the usefulness of showing rather than telling. [21] X Research source
When copy-editing your own work, you will often read what you thought you wrote rather than what you really wrote. If you can, ask someone else to help you copy-edit your manuscript. A friend who also reads or writes fiction could help you see errors that you didn’t catch on your own.
Create a cover page with the manuscript title, your name, contact information, and word count. This should be centered horizontally and vertically, with a space between each line. Alternatively, place your personal information – name, phone number, email address – in the upper left-hand corner of the first page. In the right-hand corner, put the word count rounded to the nearest 10. Press enter a few times and then put your title. The title should be centered, and may be put in all caps. Start the manuscript on a new page. Use a clear, legible serif font such as Times New Roman or Courier New set to 12pt. Double space all text. Left-justify your text. For section breaks, center 3 asterisks (***) on a new line, then hit the “enter” key and begin the new section. Start all new chapters on a new page, with the title centered. On every page except the first, include a header that has the page number, a shortened version of the title, and your last name. For print submissions, print the manuscript on high quality 8½" x 11" (or A4) 20lb bond paper.
When you’re submitting your story for publication, it’s very likely that you’ll get a few (or more than a few) rejections before someone accepts your work. This is totally normal—don’t let it discourage you! Just because one publisher rejects your work doesn’t mean that another will. Sometimes a publisher will reject a story not because it’s bad, but because it’s just not what they’re looking for in terms of style and content.
