Writing Lessons

  • Does Your Book Have Onions In It?

    If hot dogs or cheese aren’t involved, my kid’s won’t eat it. In attempt to expand their dining horizons, I’ve started to make a Kielbasa casserole. It’s really good, my husband loves it, has vegetables, and let’s be honest – kielbasa looks like hot dogs.

    I baked up a big batch and served it to the kiddos. Then watched in frustration as my son picked out every fiber-and-vitamin-filled bite.

    “Gavin!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

    He continued poking pieces and moving them to the side. “This is yucky. This is yucky.” And holding up a tiny bit of onion, said, “This is the yuckiest.”

    “No, no, no. The onions are the best! They make everything else taste better.”

    “Mommy,” he groaned. “It smells like armpits.”

    Once I recovered from my fit of laughing, and encouraged him to try some green pepper, I thought about what my five-year-old pointed out: Onions smell like Daddy after a football game.

    Gav’s watched me cook. Sometimes he likes to help (mostly when I’m grating cheese), but he won’t come in the kitchen when I’m chopping onions. Why would anyone want to eat something that smells bad enough to make your eyes water?

    I am not going to take a big bite of raw onion. I don’t even like red onion on my sandwiches. But there is no denying the value of onions to a roast, a soup, even a salad.

    Onions make everything taste better!

    Sometimes I worry that my manuscript – like bad cooking – lacks the savor of onion.

    A good plot must have highs and lows, areas when you give the reader a break from the action. There must be places in the novel when nothing is happening, when you get to know the inner workings of the character.

    Standing alone, those chapters or paragraphs might be “yucky.” No one wants to read an entire novel about a girl sitting in her room, pining for her lost love. That’s too much onion. But without an adequate sprinkling of those scenes, readers don’t connect to the character.

    As I write I have to make sure to add the character’s emotion. That’s how I add onion.

    What is it that you focus on to make sure your plot, characters, settings have enough flavor that a reader wants to stick around for seconds?
  • The Corner of His Mouth Twitched

    I’ve been a member of a writer’s group for nearly a year (I’m not really good at celebrating anniversaries. Ask my husband).

    During one of our first meetings our fearless, and of course published, leader said, “This is good, but you need to show. You do too much telling.”

    I nodded, pretending I knew exactly what she was talking about. Wasn’t show-and-tell something my preschooler did every Friday? I had good intentions to google it when I got home, but as usual, life got in the way.

    The year rolled by. I spent some time writing (not nearly enough) and a ton of time reading. Somehow a definition formed in my mind. I even highlighted some good examples of what I thought show-not-tell meant as I found it in novels.

    It must have worked. This week I got an awesome compliment from my beta. Will you indulge me enough to let me paste it below?

    “side note- you have an amazing talent for showing rather then telling the reader about your characters emotions – pointing out the mascara is tens times more powerful then just saying she felt like crap!”

    Really? Me? Here’s the sentence she was referring to:

    “I’m fine,” he used his thumbs to wipe away the mascara below her left eye and held it up so she could see it. “Are you okay?”

    So I guess that’s what it’s supposed to look like. Clear as mud, right?

    It’s okay, I found some way better examples online that I think will help.

    From, “How to Show, Don’t Tell” :

    Telling: Mary wasn’t a natural mother and she found the children very trying.

    Showing: Mary couldn’t believe it could be this much work. Couldn’t they leave her alone for five minutes to read the paper? She’d put the cartoons on for them and given them crayons and paper, but apparently that wasn’t enough — they still wanted her.

    From, “Show, Don’t Tell”:

    Telling: He sits on the couch holding his guitar.

    Showing: His eyes are closed, and he’s cradling the guitar in his arms like a lover. It’s as if he’s trying to hold on to something that wants to let go.

    Does it make more sense now?

    A few of quick tips:
    • A great place to show is during dialogue. A lot of writer’s tell us when their character is being sarcastic, but word choice and bodily language should cue us in.
    • Vague doesn’t work. If a character has a strong emotion, say anger, then their fists should clench, their chest puff out, their jaws tighten, etc.
    • Use your reader’s senses. Do they taste the character’s bitter regret? Do the feel the chill of despair? Do the see the vibrant foliage of the trees?
    • Telling is still important. If you show all the time your word count will be through the roof! You just need to determine when its vital to show (usually emotionally charged situations).

    Would some of you mind posting good examples of show-don’t-tell for the rest of us to read? Or your experience with this area?

    I’d love to hear your thoughts! Thanks.

  • Screw Your Courage to The Sticking Place

    Shoot the bull. Chew fat. Bring home the bacon. In the buff. A sorry sight. As dead as a doornail. One fell swoop. Come what may. Green eyed monster.

    Do you use any of those phrases as you write? If so, you need to include quotations…not really. But most idioms and a bevy of others are direct quotes of William Shakespeare. Ever hear of him?

    I found this really awesome Web site, phrases.org, that lists some of Old Bill’s words, what they mean and how they’re commonly used today. It’s very interesting.

    So, if you’re bored out of your head, have writer’s block, or need inspiration take a gander at the work of the sixteenth century. Maybe you’ll coin a new catch phrase or create a new word. Just like Kiersten White did with her debut novel Paranormalcy.

    “Oh Bleep!”
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