Category: Elements of Novels

Setting Up the Big Reveal

Quan

The Big Plot Twist is a staple of storytelling. Everyone uses it in any form of storytelling medium. It is a great way of progressing a story forward, and it keeps readers guessing as to what will happen next. Oftentimes, a major plot twist could make a reader totally rethink everything that has come before it and put the entire story into a new perspective. The most famous example I can think of is M. Knight Shaymalan and the twist endings that he is notorious for in movies such as The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable and Signs. In those movies, he saves the major plot twist for the end of the film, but in reality you can place these big reveals anywhere in the story and get a similar impact.

Setting up the twist: unexpected reveals are rarely that

When plotting a big plot twist or reveal, you want to make sure it is not something sprung on the reader for nothing more than shock value. You want it to occur organically within the progression of the story, and it has to make sense within the context of the narrative. And there are ways to do that. The trick is to have plot twists the reader won’t see coming, but at the same time they could have seen coming if they had been paying better attention leading up to the plot twist.

Leaving clues vs. direct foreshadowing

This issue is a matter of how subtle you want to be in letting your reader know a change to the plot is coming. With more subtle hints, you can still have that moment of surprise for casual readers, but you also will have a reward for more astute readers or those who are reading your book for a second time.

Try not to be cheesy or hamfisted…or obvious!

Part of the fun in partaking in a story for the first time is trying to outguess the author, and trying to figure out where the story is going or what is going to happen next before it actually happens. Making the clues, omens and foreshadowing too obvious ruins all of that. So try to avoid instances that scream “BIG PLOT TWIST COMING” like characters directly referencing stuff that will come into play later on, or blatantly display character traits that will affect the story late on. You want to be careful not to spoonfeed your reader or insult their intelligence.

How subtle is subtle?

At the same time, you don’t want to try to be too clever and go over the heads of your readers. Obscure references that don’t really fit the context of your setting or characters can make your story come off as pretentious. And that’s providing that the reader understands your clues to begin with. Make sure your setup actually makes sense.

Leaving Clues

There are ways you can foreshadow your big plot reveal to avoid making the reader feel bamboozled.

Your clues can be behavioral (In The Hand You’re Dealt, Tika’s explosive temper is established early, and it greatly affects events that happen later on), environmental (in Leopard Man, Ashlynn and Barter visit a landmark early in the story that plays a crucial role in the story’s climax), vocal (in Godmode, bible-thumping Ithaca warns Elijah about the consequences of his behavior with a bible verse early that plays out later in the story), and/or antecdotal. You can even hint at upcoming events in the names of characters and landmarks (Elijah and the company he works for – B.A.A.L. – are in reference to an epic Bible showdown between the prophet Elijah and the worshipers of the pagan god Baal). The key is planting small details that subtly point towards events that will happen later.

Now, you also don’t want to get so into adding clues that you detract from the other, more important elements of the story. It’s a lot like setting up a mystery. Knowing the truth before hand, you need to leave some breadcrumbs so readers can have an idea of what you have in store for them.

Planting red herrings: Effective ways to honestly mislead

If you are familiar with storytelling cliches and tropes, you can use those to your advantage, and swerve the reader with misleading clues and false foreshadowing. You can use accepted norms in your chosen story genre to lead your readers into thinking the story will follow the usual formula for that type of story. Then your big reveal turns everything on its head, and catches the reader totally offguard.

Even with this, though, you need to be fair. While you’re planting the obvious clues to lead the reader down the wrong way of thinking about your story, you still need to plant some more subtle hints at the way your plot is really going. Or better yet, you could craft your clues and foreshadowing in a way that they can be interpreted either way.

Use your Beta Readers

This is an element where your beta readers and content editor can really be a big help. Be sure to specifically ask them if there were any plot twists or big reveals that caught them off guard or that they didn’t see coming. And also ask them if there were plot twists they saw coming a mile away. And ask them to explain how those revelations made them feel about the story as a whole. You can use their reactions to gauge how effective your big plot twist is, as well as how effectively you set it up.

If done effectively, your big plot reveal can be a great hook to keep your readers guessing, and more importantly, to keep your readers reading. Setting it up properly can encourage multiple readings of your story, which in turn can further endear your readers to you and your writing. So be sure to make the time to set everything up effectively.

The Point of No Return

Quan

In every story, there will be a time where the Protagonist has gone too deep into the progression of the narrative to opt out or turn back. This is a moment where things have developed so far that all other options of dealing with the problem outlined at the outset of the story are no longer viable, and the only way the protagonist can get through the ordeal is to continue down the path he or she is travelling on. I call this moment The Point of No Return. Every story has it. This moment has to happen early in the story, but it doesn’t necessarily have to happen right at the beginning or even in the first chapter.

Wizards of the Coast head of R&D Mark Rosewater has a prefect description of the three-act story structure: Act 1: get your protagonist stuck up a tree. Act 2: throw rocks at them. Act 3: get your protagonist down from the tree. In the 3 act structure, the Point of No Return happens somewhere in Act 1. That is when your character is firmly stuck up the proverbial tree. Or, at least, has climbed so far up the tree that it is pointless to go back down.

The benefit of knowing where your point of no return lies is that you can fully focusing on enhancing hat singular moment, and making it truly stand out dramatically. The Point of No Return for your protagonist should also be the point of no return for your reader, as well. This is the moment where the reader should be fully invested in seeing the protagonist through to the outcome of the story. So you really want to make that moment grip the reader and stick in their minds, leaving them wondering what is going to happen next.

When determining when your point of no return is for your protagonist, take a look at your narrative overall. It would help if you already have a story outline or a chapter-by-chapter synopsis, but those are optional. Look at how the story progresses and ask yourself at what point does the proverbial “sh*t get real”? This should be at an early point in the story. Ask yourself at what point do your central characters lose the option of turning back or changing course? There should be a moment where the protagonist becomes kind of locked in to the path they are heading down. It could be a crucial decision they make early on, or a particular situation they find themselves in, or a moment where they take responsibility for something or someone, or when they cross a line that they wouldn’t have otherwise crossed. A story I am seeking representation for as of this writing literally has my protagonist at the edge of the “wrong side of town.” realizing that his idyllic way of life has forever been altered and the only way to get back to some semblance or normalcy is to see his predicament through to its conclusion. This moment happens at the end of act one, and is his Point of No Return.

In my stories, I tried to keep my point of no return towards the end of Act One, and I made it pretty obvious. In Godmode, it was when Elijah learned that his family was being held by Claudius Webster. That upped the ante and made it so that he could no longer afford the option of letting those monsters kill him. In Double Entry, that moment was when Melvin asked Dana if he could meet his estranged son. That took their interactions from purely business into something personal, and there was no way things could go back to the way they were now that he had made that intention known. For The Hand You’re Dealt, three were two points because there were two narratives being told concurrently. In the past, it was obviously when Tika and Jay shared their first kiss. But in the present, it was when Tika met her absentee father for the first time. I tried to make sure all of these moments had extra emotional impact, so that the reader will understand how that moment has changed everything.

I strongly recommend finding this singular moment in your story and emphasizing it. It will add to the drama of your story and help with keeping the reader engaged.

Catch Them In The Feels: Adding Emotional Impact to a Scene

Quan

A staple of fiction is the tragic scene. It’s when something happens within a story that truly tugs at the heartstrings of the reader and gets them to feel the raw emotion of whatever is happening. You’ve seen it everywhere from movies to video games to comics and novels. Some entire franchises were built on these moments.

But generating that emotional response is a tricky thing to accomplish. it can be overdone and underdone. It can feel artificial or manipulative. It can lack the necessary punch or feel soulless. So the question is how do you as a writer craft together a moment that truly, naturally elicits an emotional response from the reader?

There are many ways to approach a moment with this intent. It does not always have to be something tragic. In Terry Pratchett’s Snuff, a young, delicate goblin girl does a gesture of kindness and trust for Samuel Vimes. The moment is handled with intimacy and tenderness, from the demure girl’s movements to her haunting, profound proclamations of hearts needing to give. The girl was portrayed as delicate, precious and fragile, with a big, trusting heart for the hero of the story. I know when I read it, I truly felt for this little goblin in a way I rarely felt for secondary characters, and I truly wanted Vimes to do the right thing for her. It was a mesmerizing scene.

I tried to accomplish something similar in The Hand You’re Dealt. The scene where Jay is feeling great about a recent job interview only to have his hopes crushed moments later was something I drew from real life experience. So it was easy to articulate his slow realization that his interview did not go as well as he thought, and all of his hopes and plans for the future were dashed in that moment. But I chose to portray that moment through the eyes of his girlfriend Tika, as she witnesses his dejection firsthand and feels helpless and unable to console him. She cares for him, so she emphasizes with his despair, and in that scene she literally cries the tears he is trying to hold back. After finishing the first draft of that scene, I read it to my wife, who is not a fan of my writing in any way, shape or form. But the scene actually brought a tear to her eye because it actually took her back to that very moment where she was at my side and something similar happened to me. (How that failed to make her more interested in reading my stories I will never know, but I digress).

So the question is how do you as a writer add just the right amount of pathos and emotional resonance to a scene, without overdoing it? How can you craft a scene that truly tugs at the heart strings?

Invest the reader in the characters involved.

You don’t want your emotional moments to feel cheap, or that you manipulated the reader. Things have to come naturally within the flow of the story. To achieve this you must take the time to establish your characters and make them relatable to the reader. Take the time to fully develop the characters involved and give them a true voice and some depth of personality throughout the story leading up to your big emotional event.

Go big, or go small.

Larger-than-life events of grand importance to the story can get emotive responses because of the stakes involved. The big moments in your story are big for a reason, and you can let the gravity of the moment reflect in your characters’ behaviors. But you can also get an emotional response in quieter, more intimate moments. When moments are more intimate, there is an inherent connection with the reader, almost a feeling that they are witnessing something that they really aren’t supposed to see. This adds to the resonance because it feels as if the story is truly letting its guard down and inviting the reader into its inner workings. With an intimate moment, there are no other distractions from the moment to dilute or water down its emotional impact.

The devil is in the details.

Body language, choice of words and actions, facial expression, vocal inflection, even cadence of speech and the inherent rhythm of the flow of action can all have an effect on how emotional a scene is. Something even as simple as the goblin girl’s key phrase “Hearts must give” evokes an emotive response. Even the smallest details can add to the emotional impact of a moment.

Let it breathe.

Don’t fall into the temptation of trying to tell the reader what to feel. Present the action of the scene, and if you can get into the heads of one or more of the characters, all the more better. But you don’t want to overdo it. When a reader feels they have been manipulated and forced to feel a certain way, that can take them out of the story. Make the moment feel organic, like it was a natural progression from what had happened leading up to it, and then let the moment create the resonance for itself.

Read it over.

Once you’ve finished your scene. Read it back over and let someone else read it (or like I did, read it aloud to somebody else). The best way to tell if it tugs at the reader’s heart strings is to literally see if it tugs at a reader’s heart strings. If somebody else is reading or hearing the scene, get feedback from them on how the scene makes them feel, if their feeling is logical and if the scene makes sense.

To illustrate my point, here is the Terry Pratchett book in question. Pratchett had a great way of getting you to emphasize with unlikely characters, and he does it again with the goblins in this book. Check out “Snuff.”

Snuff, by Terry Pratchett

Plotting the End of Your Story

Quan

If you were ever wondering how to end the story you are writing, I may have some ways to help. I had a couple of tricks for figuring out the endgame of a couple of books. For Double Entry, at the penultimate scene, I literally had my protag voice out how I was feeling. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, so I had him literally tell that to his love interest, and wrote her reaction. It came together well, allowed me another moment to let them bond, and reinforced some of the themes I had been pushing in the book. Having them talk also clarified how the primary antagonist was going to behave during the final confrontation. So sometimes if you don’t really know where a story is going, it’s okay to let your characters articulate your uncertainty or frustration. It might lead to some new insights.

The other trick was to envision what a follow-up to the story would look like. If/when your book gets a sequel, what are some of the themes and ideas you’d explore? Where would you take your most important characters? If someone dies, how would they be remembered in your sequel? How would the sequel make things worse for your hero or heroine? Now, with those ideas germinating in your head, grandfather your climax and denoument to set up those threads in your potential sequel. Maybe you want your protag hellbent on revenge against his arch-nemesis in the sequel…so maybe the bad guy needs to do something deserving of revenge at the end of your current book (just an example. I’ve been talking with people in my James Bond fangroups on Facebook on why many of us have On Her Majesty’s Secret Service as our favorite bond movie, so that’s on the brain). And this would work even if you don’t intend for the book to get a sequel. I specifically let Calloway (my main antagonist in Double Entry) get away because I liked the idea of doing a hardboiled action-crime follow-up that was a complete shift in tone and theme from Double Entry, where Calloway goes on a mission to undo the mess he made in DE, with predictably disastrous, violent results. I never wrote the sequel because that would require more knowledge of the inner workings of drug gangs in Portland, OR than I have the stomach to learn, but leaving the door open for that sequel is what helped me decide Calloway’s fate in Double Entry.

I’m also a proponent of “just follow you character around and see what happens.” The only issue with that is knowing when to stop following. Where is the jump-off point where you know the main character arc of the journey has been completed, and a new one is about to start? For that answer, you have to look at where the journey started. When did the central problem present itself, and has the problem been resolved? The jump-off point, and therefore the ending of that arc, is when the prevalent problem comes to its resolution. And as a writer, you should be able to tell when that moment happens.

These are just a few of my go-to techniques for finishing stories. Please comment with any that you may have come up with. Here’s a book from Wizards of the Coast that handled its ending particularly well.

More on Writing The Final Battle

Quan

If you read my previous post about writing final battles, here are a few more thoughts about the process.

First things first. You’ve gotta give your final bad guys a weakness. There has to be a way to beat them, otherwise it defeats the purpose of your hero’s quest. I believe this is the whole reason for the whole silver/garlic shtick with our fanged and furry friends (if I ever decide to write my shelved Werewolf story idea “Hunter’s Moon”, I’m doing away with that weakness to silver. In my world, werewolves can be killed like any other living creature. but the catch is they are more cunning than average werewolves. these guys are still half human, after all. They can plan, set traps and use guns as well as hunt you down and rip your head off. I think that would be an interesting enemy to have to fight against). Otherwise these things are unstoppable monsters and there’s no point in fighting them. Your audience needs to see your heroine find a way, so you need to build one in. You can give some crazy backstory behind the weakness, but it has to be there.

Don’t think too big, even if your current story is one part of a larger narrative or storyarc. yes, this is part of a larger narrative, but this also has to work as a self-contained story. I’m going to again tell you what my publisher at Necro told me: there has to be a payoff. for Godmode, the problem was Elijah going through all this crap only to fail at saving anybody (Snitsky, Ith, his wife or his child). you have to reward the readers in some way for following your character through all of that hell. For a large story arc…Everything your protag has done so far culminates into this one moment, which is part of preparing her for the next moment in the next story, which is an even bigger moment. It’s part of the progression of the hero. And this isn’t literal. This is a matter of how you craft the story. By the time your heroine meets her last foe, you, the writer, will need to have given her the tools to give herself a fighting chance to win. If she doesn’t, then you failed her, and that part of the story’s not over until she at least has a chance to win.

Here’s an allegory: everything I have done in my career has prepared me for the job I have right now. Learning web design, Learning specific graphics programs like InDesign and Photoshop, Working in the publishing industry designing at newspapers, running my own magazine in college, writing for my college newspaper, including writing reviews and conducting interviews, learning to efficiently research stuff online, learning to get along with coworkers, understanding the editing process, even the clipart sites i used as a freelancer: all of that stuff has played a part in my success (so far) at my current dayjob. I once interviewed my now ex-brother in law for a featured article in the magazine, which draws upon another set of life experiences because him trusting me enough to ask him about his time in the Marines and his time as a police officer was not something that was built overnight. I’ve been preparing for that job my entire life.

That’s what I mean. everything your heroine has been through, the skills she picked up, the weapons she collected, the lessons she learned about handling certain situations and people, all of that was training and preparation for this. one. battle. I know there will be other final battles in the future, but if she can’t figure out how to win this one, there WON’T be any others. and that’s kinda the point.

If you haven’t watched the film Donnie Darko, I recommend you at least read some of the analyses of the movie. There are a bunch on Youtube. it’s a fascinating look at how this kid was led to be the savior of his world. long story short: he came across an unexplained artifact that created a tangent universe that was going to collapse on itself and destroy the real universe if he didn’t find out where that artifact came from and put it back. The people in this tangent universe are called “the manipulated dead” and they are all giving him clues and tools to save the world – even the ones antagonizing him, but he – and the audience – doesn’t know it. And since he was chosen, he also has some supernatural powers to help him complete the task. Nothing major, but just enough to get what needs to be done, done. and everything he does in the movie sets off sequences of events like dominoes falling, which leads right up to him doing what needs to be done, at the cost of his own life. Come to think of it, this is a similar phenomenon to how the video game Link’s Awakening progresses. Those are extreme examples, but that’s pretty much what every writer does with their protagonists, and what you’re doing with your heroine.

That’s why I asked what your protag has learned. There has to be some nuggets of knowledge she picked up in her story that will come in handy during this battle. same thing with her special abilities. She was granted those powers for a reason. This is the reason. Perhaps at some point of time, she learned of her enemies’ weakness, but it was unimportant factoid at the time. and of her blade fighting training, one of the techniques she learned is VERY effective on that particular weakspot. She learns from a previous battle to not to hold back, or to never turn her back on a defeated foe, or maybe she learns the secret to fighting off multiple foes by herself. I’m talking about very practical lessons she learned that she can use to win.

And if at all possible, avoid information dumps. they read too much like exposition. the intel she needs to win this battle should be learned throughout the story , not on the day before the final battle.

Hubris is a good weakness for your final boss to have. Some of Comicdom’s most powerful villains are usually stopped because they are too arrogant to think there are any flaws in their plans. For guys like Lex Luthor and Dr. Doom, their arrogance is literally their only real weakness. They often underestimate their foes, or do not thoroughly reinforce their plans, and end up leaving a loose thread, which, when pulled by the hero, makes the whole plan unravel.

Even if you’re writing a series of novels/movies and this will be one of many final battles, don’t fall into the trap of thinking too meta. you need to go micro with this moment. If your heroine doesn’t shine in this battle, there may not be any more final battles for her to engage in (story-wise or publication-wise). THIS battle – whichever one your heroine is in at the moment – is literally your heroine’s finest hour. Which means this foe needs to bring out the best of her. You have to make the opposition’s weapons formidable, but there has to be a way to overcome them built in that your heroine can exploit. The mithril armor and Sting don’t seem like much for Bilbo and Frodo, until they are in battle and that little glowing sword saves everyone’s lives. Think of your foe’s weapons and powers as opportunities for your heroine to show off HER abilities. it’s kind of like a dance, and you need to choreograph it.

Now look at the environment the battle is happening in. Your characters are not going to be fighting in an empty room, or even in a ring. There will be natural obstacles and weapons lying around which can help raise the stakes and the level of danger in the fight. A crumbling stronghold holds different obstacles than a sinking ship, which is different from a desolate battlefield or a dense jungle. The final battle in Kill Bill happened at a picnic table in a couple of lawn chairs in a suburban backyard. When you’re in a fight for your life, and you’re fighting for everything you hold dear, you’re going to utilize every advantage at your disposal. That’s why you need to give your final foe a built in weakness. And Your heroine needs to be the one to recognize it and be the first to exploit it.

Terry Pratchett example of this: Cohen the Barbarian is the world’s oldest Barbarian. before you laugh, remember that he has worked in a very deadly profession and lived to be a very old age. think about that, and THEN you can laugh. in any case, he’s in a Japanese-like world facing off against some samurai. The samurai want to show how skilled they are, so one pulls out a hankerchief, throws it in the air, and slices it into thirds while it is still in the air. Cohen is impressed, and now he wants to try it, so he pulls out a handkerchief and throws it in the air. while the samurai are all looking up at the handkerchief, he cuts all of their heads off. his quote? “You can show off, or you can fight. you can’t do both.”

Another way to enhance your final battle is with in-battle dialogue. this is the final battle. this is personal. there will be trash talked, and plenty of it. what are these guys saying to and about each other before the fight? during it? after it?

By the time you get to the final battle, there has to be more at stake than your protag’s survival. What exactly is she trying to do when all Hell breaks loose? what is she trying to do right at that moment within the framework of her overall quest in story. every good hero’s journey involves the quest. what is her quest for this leg of her journey? what is she trying to obtain or accomplish? And why is it so important for your final foe to stop her?

Regardless of what genre your story is in, a final battle is and should be heavy on the action. Doesn’t matter if it’s physical, verbal, or psychological: the pace of this confrontation has to be brisk and full of tension. There has to back a back and forth and ebb & flow to the momentum of the battle. it really is like a dance. or better yet, like a well choreographed pro wrestling match (I loves me some rasslin’). the best matches tell a story within themselves, have good, solid action of a hard fought battle, engage the crowd and get them cheering or booing and genuinely caring about the outcome, and make it hard to predict who is going to win or lose. Dances With Smurfs –er– Avatar actually nailed those aspects of the final battle.

Speaking of Avatar, why dontcha check that movie out again to see what I’m talking about?

The City as a Character

Quan

If you’ve ever read fiction reviews, you may have heard the phrase “The City is a character within itself.” have you ever wondered what that means? How can an inanimate, non-sentient location become an actual character? Well, obviously this is not to be taken in a literal sense. When the location a story is set in is so vivid, and engaging that it takes a life of its own, then that is what this phrase refers to.

Think of some of the more iconic locations in fiction. Whether it be Castle Rock in many Steven King novels, or The Shire in The Lord of the Rings books, or Terry Pratchett’s Discworld locations, or even the cities of Metropolis and Gotham in comic books, these are iconic locations that are more than just a static backdrop for the characters to operate in. Much more.

What makes these places so memorable? The answer lies in how they are portrayed. These locations are presented with such ambiance and detail that they can function as fully realized areas independent of the characters operating within them. When you hear of Gotham, you can see Gotham in your mind’s eye and actually envision life there, Batman or no Batman.

The advantage of having such a well-developed locale for your story is that it adds a new layer of uniqueness to your story, and a new level of authenticity. If your location is so well developed that your story literally cannot happen anywhere else, then that is a great way to measure how well-developed your setting is. When the novel “Clockers” was adapted into film, Spike Lee was able to take the entire story out of its original Boston setting and place it squarely in Brooklyn, NY. I argue that if the locale had been better presented and made more integral to the story Spike would not have been able to do that.

Just as characters can have varying levels of depth, so can settings. Anything and everything can be used to bring a location to life. Here are some things you can highlight to do just that.

1. Geography

A locale’s geography and architecture can play a key role in making the city unique. When writing, be sure to include landmarks, specific locations, and descriptions of some of the more notable parts of the city. Include street names and building names whenever you can. Mention local businesses, parks, and monuments, even if they aren’t the focus of your scene. These details will help your reader be able to see the city in their mind’s eye.

2. Local weather

You can really define a locale by its weather. Is your setting in Sunny Los Angeles, Muggy Miami, Snowy Denver or Rainy Seattle? Describing the weather of you locale can also serve to set a certain mood and tone for your story, and also the mood of your characters.

3. History

Adding references to the locale’s history can also add to the character of a locale. If a building your characters are at has some historical significance, that can add a great deal of gravitas to whatever is happening there. Furthermore, if a city has any dark secrets in its past, you can really have that play into what is currently going on in your story.

4. Local slang, customs, fashion, cuisine

What is life like for the average folk at your locale? What are the aspects of life there that are unique to that area? Whenever I write about specific cities like Chicago or Detroit, I love to include the local cuisine, especially the hot dogs the city is famous for (i.e. Chicago Dogs or Detroit Coney Dogs). If you can actually describe how the food tastes, all the more better. The local slang and colloquialisms can also set the place apart, along with the way people in that area dress.

All of these techniques, especially if combined, can really give your locale a distinct character and feel. Adding these details can really help your reader visualize the place and feel like he or she is actually there. When that happens, then the setting becomes an integral part of the story, almost like it was a character unto itself.

Avoiding Information Dumps

Quan

While critiquing a fantasy novel written by a colleague of mine, I made the observation that the vast majority of her first chapter was exposition explaining the world and its backstory. Nothing actually happened until Chapter 2 when the story REALLY began. In my book, that’s a no-no. I’ve explained in a previous post that using chapter one to focus on worldbuilding was a possible way to start off a novel, but it must be done with great care and precision to be able to get pulled off successfully, and I don’t think just any writer can do it. But this also speaks to a larger point, which is having large chunks of exposition and what I call “Information dumps” in a story. The problem with an information dump is that is grinds the flow of the story to a halt (or in my colleague’s case, prevents the story from even starting) so that you can explain whatever necessary tidbit of information you think is essential for the story.

Granted, When writing Sci-fi or fantasy, or any story where there is technical information that must be explained, certain exposition scenarios are unavoidable. If you have a piece of futuretech to be used in story, you HAVE to explain how it works. But even in those instances, there are ways to make that work that will not slow down or stop the flow of your story. Here are a few options to consider:

1. Sprinkle details of your exposition throughout your story.
I think this is effective because it adds extra depth to your story and doesn’t reveal everything at once. I used this method when Setting up the world and science of Godmode. As Elijah explores his environment, the reader learns and experiences things as he does. The key is to have the information you want to deliver be relevant to whatever situation your protagonist is in at the time.

2. Break your info dump up with actions and dialogue.
This is an option when you have an active narrator, like in a first-person perspective story. While your perspective character is explaining your world’s history, or that complex technical detail that is vital to the story, also show your character actually doing something and interacting with his or her environment at the time. This serves the purpose of moving the story forward while also explaining that vital information tht the reader needs to know.

3. Make an appendix.
You also have the option of taking that technical information and backstory and placing it in the back of your book as an extra bonus. This also adds a layer of depth to your story. A story with an appendix has a different feel than a story that doesn’t. It adds an extra gravitas to the story, because if it was major enough to need its own appendix, then it must be VERY major, right? Footnotes and annotations also count. Terry Pratchett used footnotes masterfully in his Discworld series.

These are just a few options you can utilize to get all of that pertinent information into your story smoothly. Give them a try and see what works for you.

As mentioned, Pratchett was an absolute master of adding to his world via footnotes and annotations. And they were also hilarious. Here is one of my favorites from his Discworld series of books.

Writing The Final Battle

Quan

Probably one of the most fun and challenging parts of writing Godmode was coming up with the final battle. My Content Editor is working on her latest novel, and came to me for some advice about the process of it. This is what I told her:

The final battle is the culmination of everything your story has been building up to. Basically, everything your protagonist has done, experienced and learned was in preparation for that one moment. and with it being a battle, it will be against a foe that will require everything that protagonist has learned to defeat.

Take an inventory of your heroine. What are her special abilities? What has she learned throughout the course of the story? What are the weapons at her disposal? What life lessons has she learned that will be of use during this conflict? What weaknesses can the foe still exploit? Why is it more important to your heroine personally to beat this foe than any previous one?

Now look at your villain, or whatever your final foe is. What are his special abilities and skills? What are his weapons and tools? What are his weaknesses? How far in advance would he have planned for this battle, or was he caught by surprise? Most mastermind-type villains are very hard to beat when they’ve had time to prepare – that can also apply to heroes, by the way. Heroes like Black Panther and Batman are dangerous despite their lack of superpowers because they are meticulous in scouting their opponents and preparing for them accordingly. Being mere mortals, they would get creamed in a fair fight against these demigods…so they make sure the fight is never fair. Or you can go the opposite route, with a foe that can adapt to any situation and turn it to his advantage (re: Captain America and James Bond. a villainous version would be Deathstroke the Terminator). Both types of foe present their own sets of challenges for the heroine. And finally, what are the stakes for the villain? Why is this a fight that he can’t just walk away from?

Your final foe has to be able to push your heroine to the absolute limit of her abilities and endurance. This has to be her most dangerous battle, the one she is in the greatest danger of not making it out alive from. So think about your villain’s abilities and weapons in this way: how will this ability or weapon test my heroine? What skills and knowledge will it force her to utilize? What happens to her-specifically- if she can’t overcome that particular ability or weapon? Godmode’s final monster battle was the amalgamation, a mishmash of a bunch of deadly animals, that had an answer for everything Elijah tried to do against it. To win, Elijah had to utilize the tools of his environment, tap into skills he had forgotten he had, and …most importantly…not lose control, because his rage mode would have surely gotten him killed.

Now look at the environment the battle is happening in. your characters are not going to be fighting in an empty room, or even in a ring. There will be natural obstacles and weapons lying around which can help raise the stakes and the level of danger in the fight.a crumbling stronghold holds different obstacles than a sinking ship, which is different from a desolate battlefield or a dense jungle. The final battle in Kill Bill happened at a picnic table in a couple of lawn chairs in a suburban backyard. When you’re in a fight for your life, and you’re fighting for everything you hold dear, you’re going to utilize every advantage at your disposal.

This is a formula similar to that in many video games. in most action and adventure-based games, you’ll have accumulated a lot of new weapons, techniques and abilities to get through the game, but to defeat the last boss, you’re going to need all of those skills and then some to find a way to win. Especially in JRPGs like the old Final Fantasy games. your characters could be leveled up to the max with the best weapons, but if you don’t wisely utilize your attacks, spells and items, you will still get your rear end handed to you.

This is the fight where your heroine reaches her full potential, so don’t be afraid to cut loose and go all out with the special effects and collateral damage. If you get stuck, blow something up. it worked for X1999 and Akira. Dragonball Z and The Matrix, too, for that matter. and Man of Steel. and Pacific Rim.

Another thing to consider is the personal element of this confrontation. How are the people involved connected? What kind of dialogue would they be having in the middle of this fight? What personal history or surprise revelations are going to be brought up? Remember that moment when Vader told Luke he was his father. That revelation was made even more powerful because Luke had already lost the battle, as well as his hand. It was demoralizing for him as a character, but planted seeds for the next phase of the story: how is Luke going to redeem his father? Inception’s final confrontation didn’t have a big fight, but it did have Cobb finally owning up to the truth about why his wife killed herself, and confronting that aspect of his psyche that had been sabotaging his efforts from day one.

As for the fallout…what is the purpose for your final battle anyway? What is your heroine trying to accomplish and why is the foe trying to stop it? And not in the meta “Save the world” sense, but very specifically: what exactly is your heroine trying to do, (press a button, deliver a message, drink a soda) and why exactly is this person or thing trying to stop her? Answer that question and you’ll answer what to write about. In the end, your heroine will either be able to do what she set out to do, or she won’t. It’s as simple as that. Start by writing that exact moment, and build off of that. I’ll even say that writing the aftermath might give you some clues as to what happens during the battle.

My example this time is a Final Battle that Wizards of the Coast had been building up to in 3 years’ worth of stories. In this novel all of their discordant threads come together and the heroes are put to the ultimate test.

Plotting Your Plot with Reverse Outlining

Quan

When you’re trying to flesh out that kernel of a story idea in your mind, putting together a cohesive plot can be a daunting task. Sometimes figuring out what happens and how can seem intimidating. Many writers solve this issue by taking a lot of time crafting a complete plot outline of how everything flows from start to finish before they begin writing. Other writers start with their characters and their unique predicament and make up the plot elements as they go along. These two approaches do not have to be mutually exclusive.

For many of my stories I first create a list of cool moments I want to see happen in my story. Then I build a vague plot outline around those moments. I keep the outline vague to leave some flexibility for if the characters or situations dictate a change in direction. But basically these moments serve as destination points you can direct your story to. You can discover some cool stuff by pointing your characters in a direction and just following them around. This is a hybrid technique for early plotting, where you set a destination point and then make stuff up as you go along their journey to get there.

This is the early plotting stage, so you should not worry about any filters. Be as weird and outlandish as your mind will allow. Don’t try to filter the ideas, just let them flow directly from your mind to the paper (or computer). You can go back and tweak, finetune, rework your ideas, or even replace them with something better later. Just get the ball rolling and follow your muse without overthinking things. One you have your vague plot outline done, then you can go is and add details.

Asking Questions

To get this process rolling, ask yourself a few questions about your stories, and write down your answers. Start with this one: What are the 5 biggest moments that you want to see happen in your story? Now step back. What is the next moment you are working towards in the story? Write out, step by step, how your characters get to that moment. Write single sentences for each action and don’t overthink it. That’s how I map out the next sequence of actions in my story. I don’t have a rigid outline, but I have moments that I want to happen, and I lead my characters to those moments, step by step.

Say you want one of your villains to spring a trap on your group of plucky heroes. How do your heroes get into position for the trap to be sprung? How do they spring the trap? What do they do when the trap is sprung?  How do they get out of that mess? What does the bad guy do when they get out? Sometimes you need to micromanage your plot to get the story moving.

But that just gives you a skeleton to build on. Now you need to add the meat. Pick a character, any one, and follow him or her through that sequence of events. What does he or she see, smell and touch? What are they thinking as they go through this? What memories does it bring up? What are they thinking about the rest of the characters right now? How is he or she reacting to what is happening? And what does he or she do about it?

here’s an example. In Leopard Man, my key scene was Ashlynn being chased through Forest Park by the bad guy. With that in mind. I had to ask myself how the heck she ended up in Forest Park to begin with. She was there with her best friend because they had to walk to her friend’s house in that area. So now why is she running for her life? She saw something in that forest she wasn’t supposed to see. Okay, so now that she is running, where exactly does she run to? Well, there is a small neighborhood at the end of the park, with a church at the end. So what happens if she makes it to the church? Will she be safe there? What if she isn’t? Who is chasing her, and why is she so afraid of him? And where is her friend in the midst of all of this?

Every answer leads to more questions, and each question and answer is a block to help you build your scene, chapter or story. I hope that helps.

Writing Believable Dialogue

Quan

One of the key elements of a good story is the dialogue between characters. Any story that has people interacting will show their conversations, and that is an important aspect in conveying an engaging, believable story. People can reveal a lot about themselves and their world through their dialogue. With good dialogue you can establish everything from character traits to plot elements to setting. You can tell the reader the what, why, how and where using just dialogue, and you can also use it to point out key details in the plot that you want readers to know. It is a versatile tool you have at your disposal that can convey a lot about your story when used well.

Writing good dialogue can be tricky. You want the conversation to flow naturally and sound authentic. You don’t want “talking heads” where it’s just two disembodied voices talking back and forth with nothing else happening (or do you? I’ve read some compelling stories that were nothing but two talking heads. I think this is the exception and not the rule, though). You want your people to sound like actual people with real personalities and quirks. So how can you do this?

I’ve been told that writing dialogue is one of my strengths. These are some of the techniques I use to handle it.

REAL LIFE INFLUENCE

Always listen to how people talk and converse. You will be surprised at how much you learn about how people talk just by listening to how people talk. Follow the ebb and flow of their conversation. Every dialogue has a rhythm and a poetry to it, regardless of who is talking or how they talk. Pay attention to that. You might also hear some cool antec dotes you can use in future stories. Some of the coolest dialogue from supporting characters in my book The Hand You’re Dealt came directly from people I was standing near while waiting to sell my blood plasma (Yes, that aspect of the story is quite autobiographical.)

BODY LANGUAGE

Body language and facial expression is also an important part of writing believable dialogue. People are twitchy, and nobody is just sitting perfectly still while talking. Take time to mention what their bodies and faces are doing while they are talking. You can convey a lot about what a character is thinking or feeling as they talk this way. Oftentimes, I will describe a character’s small action before they say something instead of using “he said.” Because it does a dual job of indicating who is talking while also giving some of that movement to the character. This also applies to giving a brief description of what is going through the POV character’s mind as they speak.

GRAMMAR

People don’t use proper grammar when they talk, not even English teachers. People talk in fragments, have unfinished thoughts, stumble over words, use incorrect phraseology, use filler words like um and uh, cut each other off and try to finish each other’s sentences. When writing dialogue, you want to utilize those quirks to make the conversation, and the characters, more believable. Save the soliloquies for Shakespeare.

SLANG

Pay attention to slang and local colloquialisms. If you’re writing a character from New York, that person is going to sound and talk quite differently than a person from Atlanta. Slang words and different pronunciations can be a great teller of where they are from and what their culture is, and in that instance you can be forgiven for intentional misspellings. I got into quite a few arguments with my Beta readers and editors over a New Yorker I put in The Hand You’re Dealt. They thought I misspelled one of his colloquialisms, and I had to repeatedly explain that he comes from a culture where People call each other “sun” (as in shining like the sun) instead of “son.” I got so tired of the fight I just switched to a different slang word.

Incorporating other languages can also be a key element in establishing a character. If a character comes from a unique culture, including a word or two from their native language will drive that point home. Just don’t overdo it: sprinkling in too many foreign words will make it blatant to the reader that you’re trying to make the character seem more ethnic.

THE WORD ‘SAID’

When writing dialogue, you tread a fine line when using the word “said.” You don’t want to overuse it, but at the same time, it can become quite obvious to readers when you are trying too hard to not use it. If you find yourself trying to come up with a new verb for talking every time you have somebody speak, then you are doing it too much, and you need to use “said” to give the reader a break. “Said” is usually an invisible word: the reader will read that and know what it means intrinsically without it interrupting the flow of the story. The key is to not use it ALL of the time lest you appear unimaginative. You also want to keep a lid on the flowery adjectives (which usually come right after you use the word “said”). Whatever you’re using that adjective to describe in what that character said should be self evident in whatever that character said and the actions and details around it. If you do that well, then the adjective becomes redundant.

TESTING IT OUT

Once you’ve written your dialogue, the next thing is to test it out. Don’t be afraid to read your dialogue out loud to see if everything sounds smooth and believable. Sometimes words and phrases that look good on paper (or your screen) won’t sound right when actually spoken, and that can be problematic if you want you dialogue to sound authentic.

These are some of the techniques I use when writing conversations. Give them a try and hopefully it will make your dialogue more memorable.

D’ya know who else excels at writing dialogue? Chuck Palahniuk! Check out this book from the creator of Fight Club and see for yourself.