Every word in a sentence needs to be important, otherwise it has no place. This requires word crafting. This is a process that starts with the first draft and is thoughtfully combed through in subsequent drafts.
Think of the pictures and emotions words convey to readers. Look for action verbs to emphasize the feat.
You could write, “Firefighters ran quickly into the burning building to rescue the child.”
Though this sentence gives a sense of urgency, it’s generic. People run in races and “run to the store” for bread. The adverb quickly could paint different pictures to different readers.
To give a sense of firefighters risking life and limb to save someone, we can look for words that match urgency, danger and dedication. “Desperation consumed the firefighters as they fought through the inferno in hope the the child was still alive.”
Here, the word desperation shows their emotional states. The word consumed serves two purposes. It give the sense of the intensity of the emotion and hints at the flames that could consume them and the child. They don’t just run through the flames, they fight their way through. We again get an emotional reaction in the word hope. Both the danger and the possible failure of their mission is emphasized with the words still alive.
When a sentence conveys more than one thing, a deeper picture is painted and readers become more involved in the story and the lives of the characters.
Scenes can concentrate on a few or even a single character. They can also contain large groups of characters, such as at a sports stadium or in a battle. In both cases, the story has to present people and not just the crowd to engage readers.
In describing a political convention, there will be speeches, cheers and chants. If you only concentrate on these, readers will see an overview but not have a character to anchor their attention to. Imagine the following scene at a political rally.
The delegates waved signs reading “Derrick” and “Bring it On” amidst a low rumble of voices. Smiles and laughter flowed in waves across the convention floor.
Jane’s eyes never strayed from the podium as she squeezed Fred’s hand. “He’ll announce funding for River Park. I just know it.”
A roar of voices blasted from the walls to drown out the band on stage as Governor Derrick stepped up to the podium accompanied by his wife and son. He fired his words in short blasts, emphasizing each with a fist smashed into his palm. “My friends, we will win this election.”
People in the crowd shouted in unison. “Four more years. Four more years.”
Derrick raised his hand for silence. “And when we do, there will be era of prosperity as never seen before. A new factory will rise on that vacant land next to the river to brings jobs and wealth.”
The political signs were thrust into the air as people erupted in applause.
Jane stood in shock. Images of the old oaks being ripped out of the ground engulfed her mind. This couldn’t be happening. He’d sworn the park would be built. She was too shocked to cry, yet her whole body shook.
Like the zoom lens of a camera, we start with an overview on the setting and the introduction of Derrick, but we don’t go into his point-of-view. This is at the grand level with no sense of individual wants and needs.
Then, we zoom in on Jane’s personal point-of-view.
The scene zooms back to Derrik’s announcement and the crowd’s large scale reaction. They’re all of a single mind with no individuality.
The zoom lens returns to Jane to see her shock and disappointment through both her actions and her inner thoughts.
I used this technique with battle scenes in The Carandir Sage where readers see the massing of troops, focus on a skirmish, then go into the point-of-view of a single soldier’s actions, determination and fears.
Some writers try to create suspense by concealing information with the idea readers will be surprised when a character discovers something or an action takes place.
Cliffhanger endings are effective, but keeping details from readers and audiences doesn’t create suspense. It creates frustration. Suspense comes from revealing information a little at a time.
In a script I recently read in my TV writing class, a spec pilot opens with the discovery of a murder. The victim is not revealed.
The script then goes back a week in time and introduces several characters in conflict. Some of them we root for and others we despise.
The pilot ends where the police arrive at the dead body from the opening. The victim is still not revealed.
This writer thought viewers would be intrigued to tune in the next week and discover who was killed. Instead, they created frustration. By hiding the identity of the victim, audiences have no investment in the character. If they knew who was killed, they could feel an emotional connection and care about the deceased.
Consider a scene from a movie where a cloaked figure enters an office from a balcony, places something in a desk drawer and leaves.
A second person enters and sits at the desk.
A third person enters and sits in front of the desk.
They discuss an embezzlement by someone in the company. They don’t know who it is, but are waiting for a courier to being a letter with evidence.
The letter arrives. Before they can open it, they hear a car crash and go out on the balcony to see what happened.
As they leave, a bomb explodes in the desk. When they rush back in, the letter is destroyed.
The bomb explosion is shocking. It destroys the evidence, but the scene has no suspense because we don’t know the people are in the danger.
Imagine a rewrite. The cloaked person places a bomb in a desk drawer.
The other people enter and discuss who might be the embezzler. As they speak, we cut to the bomb where a timer is ticking down.
We move back to the conversation, then back to the bomb. The timer continues to tick down.
The people step out onto the balcony and we cut to the bomb. The timer reaches zero and the bomb explodes.
We now have suspense because we’re involved in the characters’ lives and the action.
I’m sure you’ve read books where scene A is followed by Scene B which is followed by Scene C and so on. For instance:
1. SCENE A: Mary gets in her car and drives to the store.
2. SCENE B: She buys some pasta and sauce.
3. SCENE C: She drives back to her house.
4. SCENE D: Her mother comes over for dinner.
There’s a progression of action that leads to an incident, but the story lacks tension. Consider a rewrite.
1. SCENE A: Mary’s mother calls and says she’s coming over for dinner in two hours.
2. SCENE B: Mary frantically opens her refrigerator and cabinets to find she has no food to cook.
3. SCENE C: Mary charges to her car and drives off for the grocery store.
4. SCENE D: Mary left during rush hour and gets caught in a traffic jam.
5. SCENE E: Mary turns off on a side street and takes a route she knows because she’s a paramedic.
6. SCENE F: This delays Mary and the store is closed.
7. SCENE G: Mary slams on her horn in frustration.
8. SCENE H: This causes a man to come out of a new Chinese buffet she never noticed before.
9. SCENE H: It has take-out but just ran out of containers.
10. SCENE I: Mary grabs two empty containers from the back seat of her car from lunch the day before.
11. SCENE J: Mary charges back into the restaurant and throws food into the containers, making a mess.
12. SCENE K: The owner gets mad and shoves her out the door before she can fill the containers.
13. SCENE L: Mary’s mother will arrive in fifteen minutes so she weaves in and out of traffic.
14. SCENE M: The contents of one container spills out onto the front seat and down to the floor.
15. SCENE N: Mary runs into the house and divides the remaining container’s contents onto two plates just as the doorbell rings.
16. SCENE O: Mary’s mother comes in and suggests they go out to a Chinese restaurant because there isn’t enough food for the both of them.
The action in each scene drives the action in the next one. In this way, the story creates tension and situational humor that ties each of the different plot elements together.
There's a rude and inaccurate phrase being spread in online writing groups, "Plotter or Pantser." It implies those who plot out a story in an outline first are professionals and those who don't are amateurishly flying by the seat of their pants. There are professionals who plot with outlines and professionals who don’t.
We who don’t are not flying by the seat of our pants. We start with characters and a situation. As we write, we place characters under pressure and see how they react. That reaction revels the characters true natures, moves the story forward and examines the themes presented, all of which we don’t know in the beginning because we’re discovering our own perspectives and the nature of the world as we uncover the story. The words plot and story are sometimes used interchangeably, yet are quite different. Plot consists of the incidents. Story consists of the incidents, world building and character development. People want to read stories, not plots.
James Patterson writes detailed, chapter by chapter outlines before he puts down a single word of prose. This obviously works for him because he’s a bestselling author and people love his well written books. He’s writing a particular type if book, a puzzle that he lays out, cuts up with a jigsaw and assembles in front of readers. He also works with collaborators He'll give the outline to another author who will write some chapters or the entire book. An outline makes this easier.
If plotting an outline works for you, that’s what you should do. Just don’t use rude terms like pantser for those who don’t. Stephen King, Salmon Rushdie and Margaret Atwood never create outlines or character sheets before putting down prose. None of them can be considered struggling armatures.
There is no one process everyone must follow to write a book. All authors must find methods that works best for them. Some write plot outlines that range from general overviews to chapter by chapter details before they put down prose. There are writers who create descriptions of each main characters with their background, history and traits. As with outlines these vary from general to in depth. Others, like Salman Rushdie, David Mamet, Neil Gaiman, Stephen King Margaret Atwood and me don't write either.
Like the other authors mentioned above, I start with a concept I want to explore, place characters in a situation under pressure and see what happens. The way the characters react reveals their true natures and moves the story forward.
As I write, I learn more about the characters and story. New concepts come to mind. I may realize a setting is wrong. I may turn a hero into a villain. When these ideas come, I don’t go back and change previous martial. I make a note of them and continue from that point as if I had already made the changes.
I keep going until I finish the first draft. Before making any changes, I read the entire first draft. It will have grammar and spelling mistakes, dead ends, missing martial and inconsistencies. It will also have the core of the story and character development.
It’s then that I sit down, consult my notes and begin a second draft where I edit the manuscript and fix not just grammar and spelling, I make the adjustments I noted, alter character relationships, adjust scenes and so forth. I will find that some of the notes I made no longer apply to how the story or characters turned out. As I work, I’ll think of new story elements and characterizations that were not noted. Things shift and change. That’s good. The manuscript is taking on life and consistency.
When I finish the second draft, I read it without making changes, then start a third draft. You may be tempted to think only one pass is needed, yet you will be shocked at how many problems and mistakes you’ll find while writing the third draft; grammar mistakes, missing words, duplicated words, spelling errors, character development, story elements, etc. With the third draft complete, I start the fourth. I keep writing drafts until I’ve combed the manuscript to be the best I can produce. It will never be perfect. It is said a novel is a long piece of writing with mistakes. The stopping point for me is when I see the things I wanted to talk about, the representation of the characters, and the entertainment value express what I set out to deliver. For the final book of a fantasy trilogy, I wrote ten drafts because it had to tie up all the lose ends.
After I complete my drafts, the book goes to my editor. We than work together to improve it. This method has served me through five novels and an illustrated edition of one. Three of these books have won awards. Writing a novel is really rewriting until it sings.
A pun is a play on words, a statement that turns spelling or phrases around in a humorous manner. I can paddle, canoe? (I can paddle, can you?) When avoiding chores around then house, mother is the necessity of invention (necessity is the mother of invention).
I had a teacher who hated puns and said they were the lowest form of writing. The TV show Get Smart, a comedy where Don Adams played an inept secret agent when spy movies were popular, was running at the time. Created by Mel Brooks and Buck Henry, each episode contained an onslaught of puns in a style Brooks used in his parody films such as Blazing Saddles and Space Balls.
My teacher despised the show and used it as an example of what should never be done. Her idea of good writing was Shakespeare.
I loved Get Smart and all the puns. I can still watch it today and laugh Thinking back, I don't believe that teacher actually understood Shakespeare's works because they're loaded with puns. However, the language and culture has changed so much over 500 years. Many people today don't recognize the humor.
This might sound like a meaningless exchange that's anything but funny. Yet, to audiences in the 16th century it brought uproarious laughter. They understood the joke. At that time, to face a man had two meanings, either to stand up to him or for a tailor to add decorations to a garment. Braved also had two meanings— to challenge someone to a dual or for a tailor to measure someone for garments.
This might sound like a meaningless exchange that's anything but funny. Yet, to audience in the 16th century it brought uproarious laughter. They understood the joke. At that time, to face a man had two meanings, either to stand up to him or for a tailor to add decorations to a garment. Braved also had two meanings— to challenge someone to a dual or for a tailor to measure someone for garments.
For puns to work, they must contain know cultural references. That modern audiences don't always get the puns in Shakespeare's plays doesn't mean people today are dumb. They just don't have the same connection to the older culture and language. Even for subcultures within any modern societies, the puns will differ and may not me understood by people in other groups.
It takes a lot of wit and intelligence to write puns. They make us pause, shake our heads, and if their really good, groan when people get them.
The first draft of a novel is the initial creation of the story. The result will produce a manuscript, not a publishable book. The manuscript must be rewritten several times to craft a book. There will be many false starts, weak writing and mistakes. That doesn’t matter. I never write outlines; I just begin with a situation, put characters in it under pleasure and see what happens. Not everyone works this way. If you do write outlines before starting a book, don’t feel you must constrain yourself to them. You don’t fully know the story you’re writing or the characters you’re creating until you work with the prose for a while.
As you write, concepts will come to mind that you hadn’t thought of. You will realize the true nature of relationship between characters and imagine new twists in the plot. Put these things down and let your imagination run free. If you start on a divergent path, follow it to see where it leads. You may eliminate it later, but explore it anyway. It might lead to something better than you originally envisioned. The final book may bear little resemblance to what you considered in the beginning.
Never go back and edit anything in the first draft as you write. If you realize something needs to change at the beginning, make a note on the side and continue as if that change had been made, then fix the beginning in subsequent drafts.
Now there's only one true rule in writing - you can do anything you can get away with, however the trick is in knowing what that is, and that requires a knowledge of writing guidelines. It also takes experience.
Practice good writing from the beginning. Watch grammar, avoid clichés and be selective with adverbs as you create the first draft. Don't fall back on sloppy writing. Build a story, don't just dump words. Train yourself to be a better writer with each sentence. This will allow you to grow as an author because writing is a life long learning experience. It also makes life easier with the second, third, fourth and subsequent drafts to craft a manuscript into a book, short story or article.
Don’t try to write to trends or opinion polls. These change too often. By the time your book is ready for publication, tastes can vanish.
Be bold. Sit down and write your book. It's all you can do.
The Lord of the Rings was a modest seller when it first appeared in the early 1950s. Nothing like it had been published before.
It wasn’t until the 1960s, when college students discovered the books, that it became the hit we know today.
J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t write to please fans or media swings. He wrote from his heart. Write from yours. Tell your story. It has just as good a change of selling as trying to catch yesterday’s fad.
Didn’t and hadn’t both refer to events in the past. Which you use depends on the context.
If the action in question cannot be completed, use the past simple form of didn’t. The action occurred in the past and can't be changed in the present.
If there’s still a possibility for the task to be completed, use the past perfect form of hadn’t. The event occurred in the past and can be changed in the present.
Assume there are three people, Tom, Mary and Joe.
Example 1 - “Tom read Marys’ report where she spoke with Joe who said he didn’t finish painting the wall.” This implies the painting of the wall was not completed and Joe is no longer capable of doing so.
Example 2 -“Tom read Marys’ report where she spoke with Joe who said he hadn’t finish painting the wall.” This implies the painting of the wall was not completed and Joe has the ability to do so.
This second example doesn’t tell the whole story, however, because we don’ know what Joe’s intentions are. You could write, “hadn’t yet finish painting the wall.” This indicates Joe intends to finish. You could also write, “hadn’t finish painting the wall yet.” This implies Joe could finish but has shown no indication he wants to.
There is a fine line in writing between foreshadowing and telegraphing. Foreshadowing consists of facts, incidents or dialogue that appear to be insignificant at the time, yet prepare readers for future events in the book.
For instance, a character might say, “Sara used to deliver newspapers in college to support herself. She had a great arm and could put the paper on a porch every time. She was always good with her hands. I remember how she wanted to be a sculpture from the beginning. Her job let her stay in school where a professor noticed her work and suggested she enter the state competition. That was the beginning of her art career.”
On the surface, the conversation seems to be about Sara as an artist because it moves from throwing newspapers to Sara being good with her hands to Sara being able to stay in school because of the job to Sara’s big break so she can become an artist. Her ability to throw newspapers accurately is hidden within dialogue and will fall to the back of the minds of readers until a later scene where Sara has to throw a key to a character who is trapped in a cage. The seemingly unimportant fact about her ability to always hit a porch with a newspaper leads readers to believe she can toss the key accurately. Without that piece of dialogue, the reader will not believe Sara capable of this act.
Foreshadowing can be taken too far. If the dialogue had said that Sara practiced throwing objects because she was always worried she would come across animals caught in cages where she couldn’t reach them and wanted to be able to knock the cages open. Her throwing ability in the piece of dialogue would become as import as her art career and readers would be waiting for Sara to encounter something locked in cage. When the scene comes where Sara finds a person locked in a cage where the key is hanging on a shook, readers will think, “Oh, yes. Sara will throw that key into the cage.”
This becomes telegraphing and removes the suspense. When Sara tosses the key, readers will have expected it instead of being surprised when she comes up with the solution. Her action is now mundane instead of satisfying.
Foreshadowing is all about subtlety.
Beyond the Shallow Bank, my women’s historical novel with elements of Celtic mythology, won first place in the Magic, Legend and Lore category and third place for Historical Fiction at The BookFest Awards for Spring 2022. The awards ceremony took place on 2 April 2022 in Los Angeles as part of the semi-annual conference. The ceremonies and panel discussions were held online this year. https://www.thebookfest.com/book-awards-spring-2022-first-place/2/.
Beyond the Shallow Bank is told through the perspective of an artist named Margaret Talbot who fights her way into the male dominated world of publishing in the late 19th century to become a magazine illustrator. In 1901, she suffers a life changing crisis and comes to a small Nova Scotia fishing village where she meets another woman rumored to be a selkie, a magical being from Celtic mythology who walks on the land as a human and swims in the sea as a seal. With the influence of the villagers, and Margaret’s own self-determination, she strives to discover who she is and what she truly wants.
Publishers Weekly Booklife Prize said, “Wimsett's novel is quickly paced without the events of the story feeling rushed… Engaging characters and the right amount of fantasy help elevate the novel above standard genre trappings while retaining enough of the conventional elements of historical fiction. Margaret is an engaging protagonist…”
Nova Scotia writer Susan Haley, author of a number of Canadian titles including A Nest of Singing Birds and Petitot said, “The wonderful romantic plot of the book with its magical twist and turns gives substance and resonance to Margaret’s multiple dilemmas. Beyond the Shallow Bank presents a delightful picture of a Nova Scotia fishing village with all its characters: the madman inventor and the man who carries the ashes of his dead wife around with him. Beyond the Shallow Bank contains descriptive passages of the sea which are wonderfully poetic. The writing in this book has both depth and psychological complexity, as well as humor, in the interactions of its large cast of village characters. Perhaps best of all, for the lifelong reader, it is a book to sink into, put down reluctantly, and wonder about long afterwards.”
Writing a synopsis for a novel can feel like a daunting chore. How do you capture a long story and the essence of the characters? It seems impossible.
Yet, any novel can be reduced to a single sentence. The Lord of the Rings is 1,200 pages long with The Fellowship of the Rings, The Two Towers and The Return of the King. It can be described as, “A seemingly insignificant character succeeds in stopping an evil that would destroy the world.” This is the core of the story. Of course, there’s a lot of action and characterization in the book. Many things happen. J.R.R. Tolkien created an entire world that feels so real one can imagine stepping into it. There is lore from ancient days and songs. Many cultures are presented. The book has battles, hardship and humor. There are many themes expressed. All of this supports the main core.
In writing a synopsis, look to the core of your book. What are you trying to say? What is the main story line? Who are the main characters? If the agent asks for 1,000 words try to give them a 500-word synopsis. That's two single spaced pages. Agents will appreciate it because they are very busy. Just as importantly, a short synopsis demonstrates that the main story line follows an arc and that you have a grasp on your story.
You may think that if they just knew the minute details they would be enchanted. That is not the case. They will use your synopsis to sell the book to publishers and they have less time than agents.
Your query letter and synopsis are the first things an agent will read. They have to demonstrate that you are writing at a professional level and one indication is the ability to present the major themes in clear and concise language.
David A. Wimsett is the author of women's historical fiction, science fiction and epic fantasy novels.
No matter the career path people pursue, they start off knowing next to nothing about it. Carpenters must learn how to pound nails. They may have watched every episode of a particular home improvement show, but until they gain the experience of actually doing it, they will hit the wood as much as the nails and half of those will be bent. The same is true in other professions. Initial exposure is a good grounding, but there is a difference between knowing a thing and knowing the experience of a thing.
This includes writing. It takes time to learn the nuances of the craft; language, characterization, dialog, plot, suspense, comedy, drama and so forth. We all begin by imitating the styles of writers we have read until we develop our own unique voices, much as art students copy masterpieces to get the feel of how the original artists captured light or expressed emotions. Through this process, writers accumulate techniques they will continue to use. They will also gain the perspective of experience to better understand what they want to say and how to say it. There are those who pop onto the art scene with works of brilliance, however, for most people, it can take years to master the craft of an art.
Even after reaching a professional level, you will discover that the process of learning never ends. There are always new things to discover. This requires a willingness to continually evaluate yourself as a writer and to examine critiques. They could come from other writers, professional development or a critique group. A major difference between professionals and beginners is the ability to override their egos, accept that everyone can improve and commit themselves to that improvement.
Effective critiques are a service and a gift. A good critique examines of how effectively themes or points are expressed and only covers the work. It is not a statement about the writer or a way for the person offering the critique to serve their ego at the expense of others. As such, effective critiques are respectful yet direct in their comments, pointing out what worked and what didn't. Rather than trying to change an author's intention or themes, critiques should cover how effectively the writing expressed the themes and offer suggestions to make the themes more comprehensible. When writers examine critiques about their works, they can gain a better understanding of how to best communicate to readers, though no one is bound to take any suggestions if they feel they want something to be presented in a specific way.
Some new writers can be hypersensitive about critiques. Even respectful suggestions may be considered personal attacks. They may think of their stories as their babies and each word their blood on the page. I have actually heard these words used in writing groups. Some writers might say that their mother liked their manuscript or their friends enjoyed it. These attitudes are a great impediment to becoming a professional writer. Mothers like everything about their children and friends may not want to point out faults. Writers must look to people involved in writing who are willing to comment on how effective their work is. They must also separate their own egos from the work and realize that it is just a piece of writing that does or does not express what was intended. If it doesn't, it must be changed.
Many beginning writers fear that they will run out of material and must jealously guard what they have written by never removing anything. In truth, authors have an inexhaustible source of new ideas that they can draw on by just sitting down, writing them out, seeing how they read, and following threads that are suggested by the material. I threw out five times as much text as what was published in the final manuscript of my first book. Entire characters, cultures, locations and plot lines were removed because they did not serve the story or character development. I was always able to create new martial that did tell the story I intended.
Apprentice carpenters begin in near ignorance. They get experience on the job, go to training courses and proceed through the ranks to become master carpenters. There is no shame in not knowing everything at first, but we humans are impatient, even more so in this wired world. We must all be willing to swallow our egos long enough to study our own work and listen to others in the profession to become masters.
Being surprised by the action of a character or an event in a story is fun to read when that trait or incident falls within the logical world of the story. When these things are sprung upon us with no preparation, they seem like they are occurring in a different tale entirely.
Many authors bleed in information that give clues to readers about what might happen so that the possibilities are in the backs of their minds. This is referred to as foreshadowing. When that thing occurs, we believe it. Suspense is created by carefully revealing information as the story progresses.
Some writers withhold information that they only reveal at the very end of a story thinking this creates suspense. It doesn’t. It can frustrate readers who are following a story step by step and are suddenly thrown a curve ball out of the blue that ties everything up. This is referred to as Deus ex machina, god out of the machine, where the plot is wrapped by an outside force at the last minute.
Authors can string events and characterizations anyway they want, left, right, center, counter clockwise, to reveal "Ah Ha" moments of surprise. When readers are prepared, they feel satisfied and say to themselves, “I didn’t expect that and it’s the only way the story could have ended.” When the material shows up with no connection to what’s been happening or characters do things that contradicts their nature without explanation, it can come off as unbelievable and even ridiculous.
To get that satisfying result, it is necessary to prepare readers for possibilities with foreshadowing. It’s a subtle device. Too much information given away in a blatant manner can destroy any surprise. This is referred to as telegraphing. If clues are given in too elusive a manner, readers may not notice or remember them. These clues leave small doubts and suggestions in the back of the mind. Not every clue needs to lead to a conclusion. Incidents and objects can be inserted into a story that are intended to throw readers offtrack and distract them from the real clues. Director Alfred Hitchcock (Psycho, The Birds, The Man Who Knew Too Much) referred to these types of clues as MacGuffins.
To use foreshadowing effectively, information must be revealed as if it means nothing at the time or is a minor part of a larger plot device. When the final incident is revealed, readers will recall it and accept the ending because they have been prepared with the suggestion that something like that could occur or that the character might act in a certain manner.
In a novel, incidents of foreshadowing can be inserted throughout the story. They build up in the background of the world and are often unnoticed until the big event is sprung. Foreshadowing can be used to prepare readers for several incidents, not only the end of the book, and produce satisfying of course moments throughout.
Let’s assume that we are writing a novel about a successful career woman named Jane. At the end of the book, she turns down a big promotion to leave and open an antique shop. This is a major decision. For the ending to be satisfying we must demonstrate Jane’s thinking process and detail incidents in her life that lead her to this action.
At the beginning of a book, we can have Jane toying with the idea of opening such a shop but considering it impossible because she has few savings and has always just scraped by in life. She finds her current job deeply satisfying. The idea of an antique shop remains in the back of her mind as unattainable. A promotion would pay enough to save the money required but that would take years and seems far off. She feels she can’t leave to start a full time business and she would be too tired to do something part time if she got a promotion.
If we only see her at work and the rejection of the promotion is just dropped on readers at the end, they will find it unbelievable because it would seem completely out of character. Fictional character in a novel can swing wildly from one state to another, however, they must act within a range of internal logic.
If Jane constantly makes rash decisions, flies of the handle all the time or shows other traits of instability, readers might accept her turning down the promotion but it will just be another of her antics and have no real significance. To make her leaving important, it needs to be an act that seems out of character but has been eluded so when it happens we see growth in Jane. An outside force can be introduced at the end that forces her to take this action but that is Deus ex machine and is generally unsatisfying.
Showing growth in Jane requires the creation of moments where she confronts impediments and questions her life. These can be small incidents. Perhaps she makes toast one morning and her old toaster burns the bread. She can show exasperation and even admonish herself for not replacing the toaster when there was a sale the week before. This has nothing to do with her turning down the promotion yet signals that not everything in Jane’s life is satisfying.
There is an old saying, “The boulders I can walk over but the pebbles get in my shoes.” Putting enough pebbles in a character’s shoes over time builds tension as small irritants add up. That, however, is not enough. There has to be an inner motive and desire hidden within the character that, at the beginning, feels unimportant, seems unattainable or is one that the character is not consciously aware of.
We could give her an opportunity, say a local antique dealer wants to retire and will allow Jane to buy the business in low, installment payments with nothing down. Such a device might seem to be foreshadowing but it could ruin the story by both giving too much information of a future event and invoking god in the machine by presenting an opportunity that she has not worked for or expected. As a general rule in drama, it is best for unexpected incidents to hinder characters who must draw on their inner strength to overcome the obstacle, thus allowing them to grow.
If going to antique shops is an enjoyable pastime, even though she can’t afford to buy anything, readers will be subconsciously prepared for Jane to try and open one herself. Other clues need to be inserted. For instance, a friend can be with Jane while visiting a shop and tell her that she has a real eye for antiques and would be a great dealer. Jane can then say, “I’ve thought about it but I like my job. Besides, where can I get the money?” We can then have her look longingly at the items in the shop before moving quickly to something else, say a traffic accident occurs and the two women run outside. This action scene will pull readers away from Jane’s yearning look in the shop but the suggestion will stay.
Simply giving Jane the desire to run an antique shop does not mean she is capable of doing so. Another incident might be introduced. She could become friends with the owner of a shop who has to leave one weekend to visit a sick relative and asks her to step in and watch the store. Jane can make the biggest sale the shop has ever had and the owner can tell her that she should open her own shop. Jane rejects this idea. Besides the money required, she thinks about how much she loves her job and career. In addition, she feels frightened of taking such a risk and decides stability is better than reaching for a dream. Even though she rejects the idea, it is still present. Having Jane return to work and showing her immersed in her career while doing an excellent job hides the idea of owning a shop but the big sale she made and her competency in business demonstrates that she has the savvy to do so.
To reinforce the possibility that she might open a shop even though she feels satisfied in her career, tension must be introduced at the workplace. She can spend all night preparing a presentation and learn the next morning that the project was canceled the day before and her boss didn’t tell her. A supervisor can take credit for her work and Jane has no way to prove otherwise. She can’t tell herself, “One of these days I’m just going to walk out and open an antique shop if I don’t start getting some respect.” That is too blatant and is a device called telegraphing. All surprise is removed from her final actions.
Instead, she can feel disappointed, even angry, and remember how much fun it was making the big antique sale and how satisfied she felt because she knew the worth and history of the piece. Then, she reminds herself that she is good at her job and likes it, even with the irritations. Both possibilities now hold equal weigh.
This needs to be followed by victories at work to keep the idea alive that she might stay in her career. Things go very good for her and readers will question if she will open a shop.
We’re at the end of the novel. The pieces now have to come together. Jane must examine herself and make a choice. In doing so, she considers her dreams and her fears and the choice she makes reveals her true nature.
The job she has is all she’s ever worked at. It’s familiar. She knows what to expect, both good and bad. She might become a manger. The money could be great.
Yet, the passion of her dream floods her mind and won’t leave her. As authors, we need to reach deep into Jane’s character and have her confront her wants and fears. Is she really looking for money? Is she trapped in a cycle that will lead nowhere? What are the risks of leaving? What are the risks of staying? What scars will inflict her soul if she takes the easy path?
We have shown Jane to be a smart and competent person. To have her turn down the promotion and open the shop she has to be shown to truly want that and device a plan to make it a reality. She has to make sacrifices. This is where we really have to work and earn our keep as authors. Does she have an old family heirloom that she promised here dying mother she would never sell? Will she give up a luxury apartment that her friends are so impressed with to live in a hovel or the back of the store? Will she have to walk away from friends who are immersed in the business and will no longer want to associate with her? Is she willing to fail and lose everything to live in poverty? Whatever it is, it has to be foreshadowed earlier to prepare the reader. The decision can’t be easy and Jane must both embrace her passion and devise a way to make it work if she is going to open a shop.
If we have prepared readers for that possibility by demonstrating her passion for antiques, her competency in the field and her ability to manage a business, they will accept the conclusion of the book and be satisfied.
This, by the way, is the end of the story, the fact that she has chosen to take a leap of faith. Adding scenes where she buys a shop and struggles to make a go at it would be anti-climactic. This is the story of a woman overcoming her self-doubts and standing up for what she wants. She may succeed or she may fail. That’s not the point. It is the fact that we see her inner strength come out and her willingness to do what she loves that makes the story complete. Of course, we could have her accept the promotion and give up her dreams to live a predictable life. That would be a completely different story and would still reveal Jane’s true inner self.
I may never write this story. I made it up on the fly as an example of how foreshadowing can work. I do, however, use these and other similar techniques in my writing.
David A. Wimsett is the author of several books that examine characters who reveal their inner selves through their choices in life. These include Beyond the Shallow Bank in which a woman searches for who she is and what she truly wants as well as The Carandir Saga, an epic fantasy series set in a multicultural world of gender equality.
