Get Your Words Out is a year-long writing challenge to build a writing life by meeting a word count goal. It is based on Dreamwidth.
Writers can come to this tumblr for inspiration and information, but participation in the challenge happens on DW.
Sign-ups are in December and January.
Ask! Submit!
“
”
Anonymous asked:
How do you write scenery. I always having trouble writing a place where the characters is. Like do I have be specific around the surrounding or just say where it is.
You should always do some level of description of the setting of a scene. If it’s an area the reader can easily envision, either because you’ve already described it in a previous scene or because it’s a common place like a school or grocery store, you only need to include a few relevant details. Here are posts from my description and world building master lists that may help:
Subtext, especially good subtext, can be tricky to write. But in order to write good subtext, you need to have context first. And
in order to do that, you need to understand the difference between them
and where each one fits in storytelling.
Some writers make the mistake of trying to make the context into subtext. This is a problem for several reasons, one of the main being that it makes the story very vague.
In vague writing, the audience can’t really tell what is going on.
Without proper context, they aren’t sure how to interpret information
and actions. Often, this sort of writing manifests when the writer is
trying to follow the “show, don’t tell” rule too religiously, which usually leads to writing that is too cinematic.
However, creating context does not necessarily mean you have to “tell”
straight-out all the time. It can also come from taking advantage of connotations,
words with specific feelings attached to them. With that said, though,
it’s impossible for most stories to have proper context without some
telling.
Context First
Context reassures the reader that they are in the hands of a good writer
through validation and helps them interpret what is happening in the
story.
When there is little-to-no context in a story, the reader
(subconsciously) can’t tell what is intentional or what is a mistake.
For example, if you have one character call the other by the wrong name,
but give us no context, we don’t know if that is a typo or something
intentional. And if it’s intentional, we don’t know what it means.
Mack shut the Hummer’s hood. “Should be fine now,” he said to John.
“Great. Thanks, Karl.” John got in the driver’s seat and stuck his key in the ignition. The Hummer roared to life.
John headed for the main road.
This creates a few problems in the reading experience. Because the
audience isn’t sure how to interpret John’s dialogue, they’ll be stuck
thinking about it longer than they should be, longer than it deserves.
And they’ll be waiting for an explanation, and they’ll want it quick. As
they continue reading paragraphs, the tension builds up in the back of
their minds, but it’s not the good kind of tension. It’s not the kind of
tension that makes them eager for more of the story. Instead, the
tension comes from them not being sure they can trust the writer. The
tension comes from them not being able to tell if John calling Mack,
Karl, is intentional.
If it was a mistake, it shouldn’t be there. It should be edited out. If
it’s not a mistake, they have no context for how to interpret it. Is
this supposed to be a character trait? Showing that John has difficulties remembering names? Or is it meant to show that John is a jerk who calls people the wrong names to get under their skins? Or is it meant to show how nervous John is about talking to people?
We don’t know because we don’t have any context. It’s vague and could
mean any number of things. The reader is stuck trying to figure it out.
This can happen when the writer is trying to make their story
mysterious, exciting, or engaging by leaving room for readers to come to
their own conclusions and interpretations. They are right in their
desire to have the reader participate, but it is misplaced. This is a job for subtext.
If the writer is not going to give the reader a clear interpretation right away, they need to validate the readers’ concerns. The writer needs to clue them into the fact that
this is intentional, so the reader isn’t stuck trying to appraise the
author. If something strange happens, and the audience doesn’t know why
(because it will be revealed later), they need their confusion or
skepticism validated, so they can stay in suspended disbelief. They need
the writer to say, “Hey, I’m aware this is strange, but it’s
intentional, hang in here with me.”
When handled right, this may actually strengthen the audience’s trust in
the writer instead of weakening it (as long as they believe there will
be a proper payoff for waiting).
Context gives the reader something to grasp onto, it gives them a sense of grounding, so they can be participators through subtext.
If there is no context, there is almost no investment in the story,
because the audience doesn’t have access to the meaning of any of it. If
they don’t have access to any clear meaning, they are unable to care
about what happens. The only way the audience can be invested in it, is
if they are invested in the author–they trust the author will bring context later (and it MUST be brought later, not left uninterpreted).
PSA: Just a friendly reminder that whenever you start a creative project, you will invariably hit a phase where the Thing™️ appears horrendous and you start asking existential questions. But if you keep working, it invariably passes and starts to resemble something less like the devil’s vomit. Doesn’t matter if it’s art, writing, or what–this happens repeatedly. Carry on.
Mannerisms, in this case, are the little details that are unique to each character of your story! These are perfect ways help the reader know more about your character’s personality without needing to read through multiple sentences of description or dialogue. Mannerisms also become incredibly useful when you need to convey things like social status, upbringing, mental health status and how they interact with the world/people around them.
There are hundreds of unique ways to use mannerisms, for example linking one character to another despite their lack of interaction in the story. The dialogue and description might point to Character A having never met Character B, but they might share the same mannerisms, which would hint to some kind of past link between the pair.
How much space do they take up? Do they spread out when they sit or stay curled-up? Do they flail their arms to gesture? Do they speak loudly or quietly? Who listens when they speak up? Do they make a sound when they move?
How does your character sleep? What position? Do they sleep restlessly or soundly? Do they prefer covers, or do they sleep without?
How does your character greet people? Are they welcoming or reserved? How genuine are they being?
How much do they mirror others? Do they mirror everyone? (Mirroring is a subconscious behaviour where two+ people in a conversation will copy one another’s body language. This usually means there is a connection of some kind being made. Lack of / exaggerated mirroring might indicate towards a mental disorder or other (ex: personality disorder, neurodiversity, anxiety etc)
Which part of their body is the most expressive? Does your character use their hands a lot or do they tuck them away? Do they need movement to ground themselves (swaying, rocking, fidgetting…)?
Who would your character turn to in a group of people for comfort? Would they acknowledge that person more? Would they engage in a conversation with only them or would they just glance their way?
Do they have a re-occuring habit to indicate a mood? Do they crack their knuckles when excited? Do they bite their lip ring when angry? Do they look at their hands when sad?
How do they gesture? Do they speak with their hands? Do they point, nod or use their eyes to show something? Which movements are conscious, and which aren’t?
Do they have a comfort item or person? Is there something they always think of? Is there something they hold with care? How much do they value that thing more than others?
How would they react to another person’s misfortune? Would their eyes light up? Would their heart hurt? How genuine would they feel? How genuine would they act?
Is there anything that makes them OOC (out of character)? (This is a good thing! One tiny OOC aspect can make a huge impact on that character) Perhaps they’re cruel but love cats? Perhaps they’re known for being the kindest but smile when they think of something tragic? How often do they act strangely? Do they do it in front of anyone? Do their actions indicate this or solely their thoughts?
I hope this helps you develop your characters! If you have anything to add, feel free to do so!
I was working on coming up with ideas for a couple of magic systems, and figured I would condense some advice down for y’all. Please note that all of these rules are breakable! They simply offer you something to consider when creating your magic system.
SO, some things to think about:
1. Where does it come from? Most commonly, magic saps or comes from the user’s energy. In my Light & Death series, magic is in the air and it is up to the user to learn how to collect and harvest it, like a waterbender condensing humidity. Not completely important to figure out depending on the story (see Harry Potter,) but it can certainly add some flavor.
2. What does it cost? A lot of storytellers ensure that their magic comes with a price, and that price is consistent with how much magic was used. This is important to figure out, especially if your story revolves around magic or contains an arc where your character must learn to wield magic. Giving it a cost and making sure your reader understands what that cost is can really boost the tension when your character is faced with the tough decision to pay for their magic in a high-stakes way.
3. Magic influences your world as a whole. Unless your character is the first person ever to discover magic, it’s likely that the people in your world have figured out ways to make their lives easier (or others’ lives harder,) with the help of magic. How does your magic influence industry, travel, hierarchical structures, and the economy? You have a great opportunity to create a very unique world based on how your magic system works and how the people of your world chose to use it to their own advantages. (Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series is a great way to see that kind of thing happening in real time!)
4. The way magic is used can influence your story’s tone. Is it generally used for housekeeping and hexing? Are people killed with it, handily and often? The rules your magic has influence how that magic is used, and the general purposes of your magic will impact the tone of your story.
5. Who can use it? The most common answers to this question tend to be: - Everyone knows it innately - Anyone who learns it/studies can use it - It passes down from parents There is no problem with using any of these, or coming up with your own option!
6. Actually use it It’s one thing to have magic in the background of your story. But if I pick up a fantasy book that mentions magic I want to see some very cool or thoughtful uses of said magic! If you feel like you have a saggy, boring middle, consider introducing a situation in which your characters need to use magic very creatively to get out of a situation they’ve found themselves in. It may take some thinking, but if you can give the reader some magic payoff, they will only sink deeper into the story.
7. It’s okay to make your system boring This depends on the story and the writer, but it’s something I have to tell myself often. In my WIP, Two for Mirth, my magic system is very basic. There’s primarily just healing magic (and necromancy, which is on the same spectrum as healing,) and you spend your body’s energy to cast spells. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that because the story isn’t ABOUT the magic, it’s about a girl learning how to stand on her own two feet, and falling in love with the grim reaper as she does it. The magic is a background element that informs the plot. This rule could also be called “only make what you need (as long as what you end up with makes sense)”.