Throughout the course of this blog, I often note that certain techniques require a certain level of skill to be pulled off successfully. This is well and good advice, but it doesn’t really give a response as to how to reach that level of skill. It might make it seem as though only certain writers have the skill sets to make certain things work, while all others are guaranteed to fail. I want to assert that this is not the case. I believe that anyone is capable of producing quality and enjoyable works of writing. The key to doing so is simple: just keep writing. Writing, like anything else that requires skill, is something you become good at through practice. You can learn tips and tricks along the way as well as learn specifically what not to do, but these are only useful if you actively engage in improving your writing through practice.

 

 

 

If you want to attempt something difficult, the first step to doing so is to first give it your best shot. Then wait for a bit. If you have just finished a piece of writing, you might be too enthusiastic and personally attached to your work to give it fair criticism. The opposite may also be true: you may be too critical of your first draft that you treat it more harshly than you would treat something written by someone else. After this cool-off period, you can look over what you have written, note the things you like and the things you don’t, and then repeat the process. Getting into a pattern of writing, waiting, reviewing, and rewriting can help a writer to develop a sort of honesty when reviewing their own work.

 

 

In addition to self-editing, I would also recommend having other people review your work, whether they be editors, beta-readers, or just friends or family. Having additional perspectives on your work can also help you to develop a balanced perspective when looking over your own work. Doing this also opens up your works to external criticism. While hearing that some people may not like your work as much as you may have hoped may be discouraging, it is important to keep on writing. If a person disliked your work for reasons within your control, such as inconsistencies in the narrative or breaking the suspension of belief, you can go back and fix these errors. If the reasons a person disliked your work is for reasons beyond your control, there is little you can do but accept that that person does not enjoy it and it is likely not personal. For every person who does not like a specific work for no other reason than it is simply not their cup of tea, there are bound to be at least a couple of others who do enjoy that work.

 

 

A common misconception about the writing process is that once you reach a certain skill level, you cannot improve from there. The truth is that you can never stop improving. While it is possible to get a certain piece improved until you’re completely happy with it, your skillset develops each time you write. Even when you’ve found you’ve mastered the techniques you wanted to master, there is always more incentive to keep developing your writing through practice. Each time you write, you open new opportunities for improvement and further exploring and defining your style. When it comes to writing, each step you take can help you to hone your craft and there’s only one way to do so: just keep writing.

In honor of National Poetry Month, this week’s blog will take a look at poetry. While it may not seem like it based on my other posts on this blog, I probably write poetry more frequently than anything else. Yes, I work on my draft for my fantasy novel and am almost always developing characters for projects on the backburner, but when I don’t have time to get deep into a writing groove, I find myself working on poetry.

 

 

Happy National Poetry Month!

 

I feel like generally poetry isn’t really considered a means of storytelling, unless your talking about an epic poem, like The Illiad or The Odyssey, or a ballad, like The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. But like a lot of written creative pieces, poetry usually tells a story. Even if characters aren’t developed or a clear protagonist is absent, poems still typically set a scene, address conflict, and contain a climax and resolution. I think the only difference is that poetry is often shorter than most published books. While some may see this as a drawback to the form, I personally see it as a challenge. Poems are usually, but not necessarily, personal, embued with style and technique that reflects the emotion and intent of the author. With so much to convey and only so much that can be said in order to prevent poetry from becoming prose, I think that this helps poets to create concise but meaningful writing.

 

 

In a way, poetry is the product of a lot of good writing techniques and tools condensed. For instance, poetry often relies on imagery and metaphor. These are techniques that can be used throughout a longer work as well, but if not used consistently enough, they can become vague. Poetry brings elements like these to the forefront of a work, allowing these images to be seen more clearly. Because of this, writing poetry using literary devices and techniques can help you to become better at using the same techniques on a larger scale. Just as for a larger work, imagery and metaphor are more clear when developed and consistently used in poetry.

 

 

Good poetry also has appropriate pacing. Again, working on pacing in poetry can help writers get a better sense for pacing when writing longer works. Pacing looks different depending on the type of poetry being written. A sonnet or a ballad is not going to have the same pacing as an epic poem, just as an action movie is not going to have the same pace as a slow-burn thriller. Some poems’ pacings are arranged by stanza. In sonnets, the first quatrain, or stanza of four sentences, sets the scene and establishes the conflict, the second quatrain further develops the conflict, the third quatrain shows the conflict’s volta, or turning point, and the last two sentences serve as a resolution. Other poems, like Robert Louis Stevenson’s “I Dreamed of Forest Alleys Fair,” pace themselves by segmenting the poem into different sections using Roman numerals. This is often based on different developments throughout the story of the poem. In “I Dreamed of Forest Alleys Fair,” the segmentation of the poem is based off of the passage of time. Segmenting poems is analagous to dividing a book into chapters or a play into scenes.

 

 

Overall, there are a lot of commonalities between writing prose and writing poetry. They are similar enough to help beginning writers of longer works better develop certain writing skills by working with them on a smaller scale. There are still many differences between the two mediums, but this doesn’t mean that elements from one form can’t be brought into the other form.

We tend to emphasize the importance of first impressions. When going to a job interview or the first day of a class, we might present ourselves a certain way in order to convey both our identity and professionalism. We might mention a certain TV show or movie we like to a person who we’re meeting for the first time and find that, because they share our interests, they have judged us as someone to keep talking to. First impressions are key to figuring out a general idea of someone you’ve just met.

 

The central idea is the same for introducing characters. When you introduce characters to an audience for the first time, you want to make an impression. This is especially true if you’re introducing a main character. This is the person, or at least one of the people, who you want to draw your audience into the story. It is vital that you introduce your character in a meaningful way that a) gives a general idea of who that character is, b) is attention-grabbing, and c) gets your audience invested in your story. Here I’ll give some advice as to how to best accomplish this.

 

Confirm that your character is the best one to tell this story.

 

Before you even start to introduce a character, you absolutely need to make sure that they should be the one telling the story in the first place. Is the story about something this character does? If the story is about an experience that a lot of people go through or a historical event, does this outside occurrence truly make an impact on your character? Is there someone better who the audience could follow as the story unwinds?

 

Once you’ve determined that your character is the best choice for your story, then you can start to introduce them.

 

Make sure the moment that your character is introduced is well picked.

 

In the world of writing, nothing is better than another chance to show instead of tell. This goes for introductions as well. The setting in which a character is introduced can do a lot more than just telling your audience what their qualities are. Setting up a character introduction in the middle of an important action can be so much more satisfying to read about than to be told about it later. For instance, say you’re writing a story about a girl who loves playing softball. You might have her introduced in the middle of a softball game, maybe even when she’s up to bat and the bases are loaded. Perhaps she’s down to her last chance to hit. This creates tension, shows what is important to the character, and creates room for more details about the character to be shown. For instance, if the story is from her perspective, her thoughts as she steps up to the plate could be revealed, allowing for the possibility of foreshadowing and or sharing more details about the character. Any or all of this is much more engaging and interesting than “Katie was an athletic girl who loved to play softball. She’s good at the sport and won the game for her team.”

 

Another good way to introduce a character via situation is by demonstrating something the character does in their everyday life. Take the introduction of the character Aladdin from the 1992 film of the same.

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VdZewCFyfg

 

 

In this scene, Aladdin is introduced mid-chase from the royal guard as they attempt to apprehend him for stealing a loaf of bread. This scene tells you all that you need to know about Aladdin going into this story: he’s clever, resourceful, a thief, and he lives in poverty. The scene also illustrates his relationship with his monkey sidekick, Abu, as well as features his interactions with the townspeople, who help demonstrate to audiences that, for Aladdin, evading the law is just a typical Tuesday.

 

Overall, the way you introduce your characters should be interesting and provide the information audiences need to know going into the story. While in real life, you may have a second chance at a first impression, this isn’t the case for written works. You only get one shot at giving your audience a good first impression of a character, so make it count!

World-building is an essential part of any story. Most people assume that world-building is the same as establishing the setting of a story or a scene in the story. This is a common misconception. True, setting does play a large role in a number of stories, especially in genres like high fantasy, sci-fi, and historical fiction, but world-building is so much more than just naming and describing a place.

 

 

Consider the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. In terms of world-building, I think it’s safe to say that Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are some of the highest regarded examples. Having created multiple languages for his stories and developing the cultures for multiple different fantasy races, the bar set by Tolkien is intimidating. While Tolkien’s work is incredibly popular and beloved by many, the extent of his world-building isn’t the general standard.

 

 

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien features elaborate and solid world-building.

 

 

While you can write fifteen different languages and study abroad in a different country for years on end in order to observe customs and attitudes similar to those of a society in your story, you don’t have to. What you do need is the perseverance to create a full and immersive world. In order to do this, you need to make sure that your world can be self-sufficient. Here are some tips:

 

 

Make sure that you have explanations prepared for all unique aspects of your world.

 

Say you’re writing a sci-fi novel and time travel is a new technology that’s relevant to the plot. You need to be prepared to know how your method of time travel works. When you create new ideas with your writing, you need to know all their ins and outs. That being said, you don’t need to include your ins and outs for everything if they are unnecessary and distract from the story, but if a new idea for a scene pops into your head involving an idea you invented for the story, fully understanding what you have created can lend itself to help you so you don’t have to make up the information as you go along and risk having errors with consistency. Fully and completely understanding any concepts you have created can also help you evaluate how much information is necessary for audiences to know. If a beta-reader is confused by a new concept or feels that you gave little in-story explanation for it, having that information on hand makes the revision process easier.

 

Make sure that you know the rules of your world.

 

I’ll keep this section brief because I know that I’ve discussed this topic at least once before on this blog, but it is vital that you establish the rules of your world. Even if you are writing with the intention of making the setting average and mundane, it is your responsibility as a writer to establish that the world you are writing is meant to be exactly like our own. In less-realistic fiction, knowing and establishing the rules of a world is just as important. Failing to do so often comes off as lazy writing and breaks the suspension of disbelief of your audience.

 

Research and Draw Inspiration from Real Life

 

If you look closely into many aspects of life, you’ll notice that there is a reason for most things being as they are. Ancient Egyptians didn’t wear kohl around their eyes just because they were into eye-liner; it helped them to protect their eyes from the sun. Nomadic groups don’t tend to live in tents or easily deconstructed huts because they like camping; moving around is their way of life. Even on a molecular level, the structure of molecules are the way they are because it allows them to perform very specific functions. When creating societies and cultures, draw inspiration from the way real people live. If you are writing a story about a fictional civilization that lives in the tropics, look at real-life societies for inspiration regarding architecture, clothing choices, lifestyles, etc. There isn’t a better way to write realistically than by looking to the real world.

 

 

These are just a few tips to help get you started in building a world for your story that can stand on its own. While there is a lot of advice out there on how to properly world-build, the only to get hone this skill, much like a lot of other skills, is to practice with patience and perseverance.

The use of tropes is often given a lot of flack. Many people, especially writers, compare the use of tropes to that of the dreaded cliché, viewing both as products of lazy and or amature writing. Still, I feel that there should be more nuiance to the dicussion surrounding whether or not the use of tropes is inherently detrimental to otherwise good writing. My own personal opinions on tropes are less clear clut than my opinions on clichés (click here to read about them).

 

I think this has a lot to do with how broad the definition is for what is considered a trope. Generally speaking, tropes are different structures and themes that are seen repeatedly across multiple works and mediums of fictions. Some of the most common are probably the group of three, the chosen one, and the love triangle. Here, I’m going to break down two of these tropes and discuss their usage.

 

The Group of Three

 

 

(from left to right) Sam, Carly and Freddy from the TV show, iCarly

 

 

(from left to right) Ron, Harry, and Hermione from the Harry Potter movies

 

 

(from left to right) Emma, Cleo, and Rikki from the TV show H2O: Just Add Water

 

 

Common Characteristics of This Trope: 

• Three best friends brought together by an especially unique experience
• Occasionally joined by a fourth character who isn’t given as much background and/or presence in the story as the main three (usually because this character has not undergone the same unique experience as the other three)
• Two of the three become romantically involved
• Two of the three were already good friends while the third member joins the friend group by means of the unique exeprience
• Each of the three will roughly fit these descriptions: the hot-headed direct one; the good responsible one; and the neutral one. The ‘neutral one’ can be distinguished from the ‘good responsible one’ because they often serve as a peace-maker between the ‘good responsible one’ and the ‘hot-headed direct one.’

 

 

My Thoughts: To a degree, I feel that this trope’s use is pretty unavoidable. In real life, a lot of people have friend groups and it’s pretty likely that at least a few of these friend groups comprise of exactly three best friends. Still, in a lot of works that use this trope, a lot of the organic aspects are thrown away. I’ve met some of my best friends by pretty ordinary means. Two of my best friends I met in middle school under perfectly normal circumstances and after we became friends, we weren’t bound by anything other than the fact that we were able to see each other each day and that we enjoyed each other’s company. I didn’t save them from a troll, start a viral webcast with them, or steal a boat for a joyride in shark infested waters only to fall into a magic hole and inadventently become a mythical fish woman. Another issue with this trope in particular is that some writers feel as though they need to create a trio of leads for their work, so much so that that takes precedent over the actual characters themselves. For instance, the third season of H2O literally replaces the character, Emma, after her actress left the show and replaced Emma with Bella, a character who in terms of powers and personality pretty much matches Emma’s. Instead of completley replacing a character, the writers instead decided to use the template of the group of three trope to create a character that in all meaningful ways was virtually identical to the original.

 

 

Conclusion: Having a team of three characters serve as protagonists can be an interesting dynamic to follow, but only if the characters and their interactions are driving the friendships. Otherwise, the use of this trope feels lazy and purposeless.

 

 

The Chosen One

 

 

 

 

Common Characteristics of This Trope:

• An ordinary person, usually one who has suffered a lot, finds out they are special
• Chosen One excells at whatever the plot needs them to excell at
• Other characters are aware of how the chosen one is special before the Chosen One themselves is aware

 

 

My Thoughts: The purpose of writing a story is usually to highlight something or someone of interest. No one wants to read about an unnotable person in an unnotable place doing an unnotable thing. At least the action, character, or setting of a story should be captivating (ideally all three). The issue I have with Chosen Ones is that the idea of a character being special overshadows who the character actually is. I once heard someone say that whenever you ask someone who their favorite Harry Potter character is, no one ever says Harry. And to be honest, I can see why. Harry’s personality is pretty typical of most protagonists: he’s adventurous, brave, and loves his friends. A lot of the things that make him notable throughout the series are due to things he can’t control. Still, this is acknowledged within the books themselves, as Harry finds out that his fate, bestowed upon him by Voldemort, could have been given to another boy his age. This information lessens the idea of Harry’s seemingly innate specialness, but at the same time, Harry still kills a Basilisk as a 12 year old and is able to effortlessly fly a broomstick the first time he sees one.

 

 

Conclusion: The point picking the characters that the story will follow is often because there is something special about them, and specifically making it cannon in writing that they are uniquely special compared to others, in most situations, feels ridiculous and utterly unnatural.

 

Now this would be the part where I’d talk about love triangles, but to be completely honest, I usually don’t like romance novels and so I don’t feel I am a reputable source for analyzing and judging the value of this trope. As for the other two, I feel confident in saying that these tropes can work, but only if they are used as very basic outlines as opposed to exact directions to be followed. All tropes were, at one point, an original idea that others began to use because they saw that it worked. Tropes are best used when they are used as rough sketches of the final product. That way, you can use what has worked in other works while also adding your own ideas to it, finding the perfect balance between old ideas and ingenuity.

Write what you know.

 

 

If I had a dollar for every time I heard these four words passed around creative writing circles, I’d probably have $20, which if I’m smart, I’d spend on either jumper cables or a family field trip, apparently (source).

 

 

An artistic rendering of me off to spend my purely hypothetical wealth the ‘smart’ way (original)

 

 

The point is is that a) this advice is pretty common and b) I tend to avoid writing communities that live by the mantra of “write what you know.” There’s something that has always not been appealing to me about this advice, something that doesn’t sit right with me about it that I’ve never been quite able to pinpoint. I think it might be because I’m a lover of fiction. The further removed from reality as we know it, the more I’ll typically enjoy a work. I enjoy supernatural horror, fantasy epics, and action-packed sci-fi novels. And like many writers, I tend to dabble in writing stories that are similar in genre to that of works I enjoy.

 

 

When I look at the projects that I have taken on over the course of the past four or five years, most if not all of them can apply to the idea of writing what I know. One is a story about fictional world politics and the impacts of colonialism in a world of fictional humanoid species that have mind powers and rigid religious and nationalist systems. Another is a story about a young necromancer in a medievalesque world trying to stop the rapture mid-apocalypse with the help of a psychic medium and an assassin-in-training. Even the only project set on Earth as we know it is set in New England in the 1830s.

 

 

In the specific cases of these stories, I cannot “write what I know” simply because I don’t have personal experience with a lot of these things. I cannot personally attest to being an astral-projecting reptilian-humanoid who is a powerless figurehead within a totalitarian government. Nor can I claim to know what it’s like to be a necromancer on a quest to save the Earth from demons when the rest of the world believes I’m the one causing the rapture in the first place. And again, I definitely don’t know what it’s like to be a gold-digging midwestern young man in search of a young heiress to marry so I don’t have to work on my family farm. All of these are surface-level descriptions of main characters I have outlined for projects of mine that definitely don’t constitute as things I know first-hand.

 

 

Still, the advice of only writing what you know could be interpreted as understanding people in general. Most books, movies, and T.V. shows center around people. When these forms of fiction portray people in a way that just doesn’t feel natural, it shows. If writing what you know is actually meant to be interpreted to mean understanding that people are complex, have motivations, and are influenced by their pasts and the people around them, I would change my approach toward the advice mildly. With enough experience with and observation of social interactions in different social settings and reading how life-like people are translated to the page, anyone can write characters that feel human. Because of this, I argue that there isn’t a real purpose to this advice if this is the intended takeaway. Most people, I feel, are familiar enough with other people that they can create new fictional ones with an air of verisimilitude.

 

 

Even if the things a writer chooses to write about are real and grounded within a contemporary setting, I still argue that they should not be limited to what they already know. Research is always a helpful tool to use in the pre-writing/planning stage of any writing project. If a character has a medical condition or lives in a different country than its writer originated from or has lived in, then a lack of research is not only unprofessional, but also has the possibility of being unrealistic and/or insensitive. Encouraging writers to learn more about different subjects that they are interested in writing in only leads to the writer and their audiences becoming more informed. Research can also always be done at a subjective level. A writer who is writing a character who has a near-death experience may want to consult people who have had a near-death experience or to find sources in which someone who has had a near-death experience has written about it and their life after the fact.

 

 

No matter how much research you do, you should also make sure to have plenty of beta-readers to look over your work after you have finished your draft. A beta-reader is someone who readers over an unpublished or unfinished piece of fiction and makes notes about what does and doesn’t work about the draft. If you write about an experience that you personally have not had, it is extremely helpful to have at least one or two beta-readers who have personally had similar experiences to the ones you’ve written about. This can especially help to make sure that your portrayal is accurate.

 

 

I suppose the reason that “write what you know” has never appealed to me because of how restrictive it feels. I think some better advice is to a) do thorough and comprehensive research and b) write the stories you want to read. Sure, these pieces of advice together are three times as long as “write what you know,” but that’s a small cost in consideration of the freedoms offered by the alternative.

Throughout my blog posts, I’ve said over and over again that a complex character needs to have flaws. Nothing is more annoying (at least to me) than having a character so unrelatable and perfect that no one in the audience can identify with them. Furthermore, creating central characters that are flawless is a sure-fire way to put distance between your characters and your audience. People can see themselves in the good qualities, relationships, and scenarios of your characters and their lives, but I argue that the disingenuousness of a character without flaws can prevent audiences from being less invested in the characters as they could be.

 

 

That being said, there is such a thing as giving a character too many flaws. An overly flawed character is almost as bad as a flawless character. Oftentimes, overly flawed characters are the result of writers wanting to add depth to a character, but overloading a single character with several flaws too many can make a work seem shallow.

 

 

I Capture the Castle (1948) by Dodie Smith 

 

 

To explore the negative effects of an overly flawed character on the quality of a story, I will use Cassandra Mortmain from I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. You may recognize this novel from my previous blog post about stagnant characters (which you can read here). Not only is Cassandra stagnant, but she is overly flawed.

Here are just a few of the flaws she exhibits throughout the novel:

 

• Judgemental
• Manipulative
• Obsessive
• Impulsive
• Selfish
• Stubborn
• Completely lacking in self-awareness
• Rude

 

 

Because everything must be in a book for a purpose, the inclusion of character flaws must also serve some purpose. They can serve as the conflict of subplots, a way to mark character development with their resolution, and as a way to make a character more relatable to audiences. Most importantly, the flaws need to be addressed in some way, shape, or form because, otherwise, they serve no purpose to the story.

 

 

In Cassandra’s case, her flaws often serve as the catalyst for most events in the book. Her harsh judgments made on Stephen, an orphaned young man her age whom her family took in, and her shameless manipulation of his emotions serve as a catalyst for a subplot meant to excuse Cassandra’s obsession for her sister’s fiancé. Her obsessive tendencies lead to a huge fight with her sister, Rose, as they prepare for Rose’s wedding. Her impulsive behavior repeatedly leads to events in which she and those around her are negatively impacted.

 

 

While her flaws do set off events, it is at the expense of her relatability and likeability (at least for me). It is not very often that a single flaw is large enough to sink a character’s relatability and likeability. Most of Cassandra’s flaws by themselves are not unforgivable enough to immediately damn her to being unrelatable and unlikeable. We all are obsessive about somethings. We all are rude or impulsive on occasion. But in combination and in the frequency that these flaws appear, Cassandra becomes incredibly hard to sympathize with. In succession, she kisses her sister’s fiancé, sulks around and feels bad for herself (not because she hurt her sister and best friend, Rose, but because she can’t be with her sister’s fiancé), rebounds with Stephen (whom she frequently refers to as ‘daft’ and who is convinced that after the fact, they will get married), continues to lie to her sister and help with wedding preparations, starts a massive fight with Rose because she doesn’t think Rose deserves to be with her fiancé, and then runs off into the London night to get wasted.

 

 

Overall, characters like Cassandra are painful to read. It took me over a year to finish I Capture the Castle because I couldn’t stop facepalming long enough to get through it quicker. I literally would have to set it down between chapters and come back to it a month later for the sole reason of needing a break from Cassandra’s cycle of poor decisions and never-ending self-pity. For reference, according to the Amazon listing, the book is only 343 pages. It was so hard for me to get immersed in this book for the same reasons that it’s so hard to get immersed in a book starring an impossibly perfect protagonist: real people are generally not like this. And in the case of overly flawed characters specifically, the people who are like this are not generally ones you’d want to be around.

It isn’t uncommon to see the use of exposition getting a lot of flack. The word is considered almost synonymous with telling-not-showing. It brings to mind the clichéd lengthy dramatic introductions to fantasy novels and page-long conversations of irrelevant tragic backstories. Exposition, as it is commonly viewed, is something that I generally agree is unnecessary filler. However, when exposition is used appropriately, it can be a powerful tool.

 

 

Like a lot of things, exposition does not have one cut and dry way of being written. Like mentioned before, exposition can be found in prologues, like those often found at the beginning of fantasy novels, in conversations between characters, in flashbacks, in offhand comments by the narrator, and in many more applications. Here I will be discussing the advantages and drawbacks of two common ways exposition can be used while also giving examples as to the ways in which these techniques are used well.

 

 

The Introduction

 

As mentioned before, the introductory exposition is usually found in stories where the setting was completely engineered by the author. Because of this, the purpose of exposition in this context is to set the scene for the work and give audiences a chance to adjust to the work’s setting.

 

There are two primary ways in which introductions can provide exposition: telling and showing.

 

 

Telling:

 

• Pros:
  • Telling allows your audience to digest a lot of information effectively in a small amount of time, which is especially helpful if the setting of your story will be completely new to them.
  • The themes and feel of your story are explicitly laid out for the audience.
  • The choice of words used can help effectively set the tone of your story.

 

• Cons:
  • When audiences are told what the setting of the story is like, it is harder to guarantee their level of immersion based on this exposition because the introduction feels separate from the actual work.
  • It is easy to include too much information. This can lead to things like long drawn-out stories of creation myths that are pretty much irrelevant to the story and too much elaboration on things that are relevant, but would be better off being shown through the rest of the story.

 

• Example:
  • The introduction to the animated series Avatar: The Last Airbender demonstrates how to use this method of exposition well. The narration is restrained, but introduces the primary conflict of the series (the war with the Fire Nation and how Aang needs to master the four elements to save the world), the essential aspects of the world that viewers need to know going into the series (who the Avatar is and the concepts of bending), and some major themes of the entire series (hope and balance).

 

The famous introduction to the Nickelodeon show, Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008).

 

 

Showing:

 

• Pros:
  • The audience learns about the setting of the story first-hand. Because the introduction is told in the same way as the rest of the story, the audience gets a better sense of what the story will be like because the introduction does not feel completely separate from the story. Because of this, audiences are more likely to feel immersed quicker than if the information was explicitly told to them.
  • You can more subtly foreshadow important conflicts, themes, and symbols that will be central to your story.
  • More description and scenery can be introduced, which can help to really flesh out your setting for your audiences.

 

• Cons:
  • This kind of exposition can feel detached if not directly connected to the first section of the primary story, which can make it feel like filler more so than relevant information for the story.
  • Like anything that involves description, ‘showing’ introductions can go overboard with distracting irrelevant details. This is particularly bad in this scenario since you are trying to pull your audience in.

 

• Example:
  • The Prologue in George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones is a great example of this kind of exposition. It follows a small group of men traveling through the forest in the North, looking for some other people in the woods. The primary takeaways of this prologue are to convey the setting, the frigid snowy woods of the far North, and to hint at the supernatural dangers that Winter poses in the setting of this book. What sets this prologue apart from the rest of the novel is that none of the characters are main characters. The introduction of these characters distracting the reader from the main characters is prevented by Martin killing them off, with the last one dying at the hands of a main character at the beginning of the first chapter. Martin’s decision to do this prevents the characters in the prologue from becoming loose ends and connects them directly to the main characters of the novel in a way that hands off the narrative. In summary, Martin’s Prologue serves to contextualize his world and main characters for the readers while also foreshadowing the coming dangers in the book in a way that is suspenseful and exciting. (The ‘preview’ option on Amazon lets you read the full prologue. If you’re interested, click here.)

 

A Game of Thrones (1996) by George R.R. Martin is the first in his series, A Song of Ice and Fire.

 

 

These are just two ways that exposition can be conveyed well in introductions. There are plenty more good examples of this technique being used efficiently. Other good examples of exposition found further into the body of stories are harder to pinpoint because they can be as small as a few lines in a single scene. Overall, exposition that isn’t part of the introduction of a story should feel natural. Generally, the information that readers need to know should be provided either as they need it or foreshadowed or mentioned in advance. Regardless of whether it is used as part of the main story or in the introduction, exposition should feel like it belongs. If not, you risk breaking the immersion of your audience members.

If you’ve ever seen or read a review of a book or a film, you may have heard the critic say that the work doesn’t respect its audience. I believe that one of the worst things a work of fiction can do is to treat its audience with disrespect. The last thing people want from their entertainment is to be treated condescendingly by it.

 

Aretha Franklin singing about the importance of respect.

 

To me, a piece with no respect for its audience is essentially a writing crime. However, I also feel that this most egregious of crimes is not one that is often purposefully committed. A lot of things that define condescending writing can be the result of inexperience or a lack of awareness on the author’s part. With some practice and help from others, the bits and pieces in a written piece that build up to create an overall condescending tone can be resolved.

 

 

A common criticism among novice writers is that there is too much telling and not enough showing. Telling instead of showing is a mistake that can be made in several different contexts and each of these contexts can leave different impressions on the reader. The primary way that telling-not-showing can come off as condescending is when it is used to state the obvious or what the author thinks should be obvious. Here are some examples and a counterexample:

 

 

 

Scenario: A knight is fighting a dragon.

Intended takeaway: The knight is brave.

 

 

• Example 1: Sir Gregory bravely fought the dragon.
  • Issue: By just telling the audience an attribute of a character, you prevent the audience from being able to a) immerse themselves in your story and b) see exactly what happens so they can judge how brave the knight is for themselves.

 

 

• Example 2: Sir Gregory drew his sword and ran at the beast. The dragon shot flames towards the brave knight, but Sir Gregory kept running towards it.
  • Issue: Telling the audience that the knight is brave isn’t necessary here. It feels redundant and pointless. Most people would assume that the knight was brave because of his actions.

 

 

• Counterexample: Sir Gregory drew his sword and ran at the beast. The dragon shot flames at him, but Sir Gregory kept running towards it. He ducked and rolled under the wall of fire at the last second before rising back to his feet to charge the monster again.

 

 

Another way that writing can come off as condescending is if it repeatedly hits audiences over the head with specific details. This mistake is hard to describe in one concrete example because it typically takes place within longer works. There are two main ways this issue tends to manifest in writing: repeating a description a seemingly unnatural amount of times and a lack of subtlety in motif building.

 

 

Description repetition isn’t always condescending. The Harry Potter books typically reuse the same descriptions for characters multiple times within the same book. What makes description repetition feel disrespectful is if the same wordings occur frequently within a short period of time or if the same ideas are reinforced over and over.

 

For instance:

 

“How old are you, little girl?”

 

The child took her thumb out of her mouth.

 

“I’m almost seven years old!” The young girl said in her squeaky voice. She gave her teddy bear a squeeze before sucking on her thumb once more.

 

 

This scenario takes every opportunity to remind audiences that the character shown here is a little girl in a way that feels needlessly repetitive. Most audiences could assume from the initial question or from the girl’s response, her age range. If these kinds of descriptions or ideas were laid out like this for the rest of the story, audiences would most likely feel disrespected.

 

 

Much like telling-not-showing, a lack of subtlety in motif building is typically done out of lack of experience. Motifs, when implemented correctly, can add incredible depth to a story, but when used in a way that sticks out from the story, it can seem condescending. As a side note, I’m not saying that new writers should avoid writing motifs. The only way to get good at writing motifs is by writing motifs. Good use of motif should be detectable to an audience but not feel like it’s under a giant blinking sign that reads “MOTIF HERE.” The only advice I can give for using motifs is to notice them as you consume fiction and to observe how different works find the delicate balance between subtlety and perceptibility.

 

 

In general, writing without respect for the audience is something that arises from a lack of trust. A lot of new writers fear that they’ll fail to get points across and so overcompensate using the techniques described here. However, the actual writing only accounts for one half of the magic of fictional storytelling. The other half is supplied by the audience when they watch or read your finished product. As a writer, the audience trusts you to tell them a coherent interesting story. By writing in a way that respects your audience, you’re not only trusting them to create the other half of the magic; you’re trusting yourself and your abilities as well.

How many times have you heard or read these phrases while reading a book or watching a movie?

 

 

Her eyes sparkled, like glistening pools.

 

I loved him, so I let him go.

 

I avoid them like the plague.

 

After what felt like a century…

 

It’s hot as hell out here!

 

 

Clichés are alright to use in conversation, but can become tedious or even feel wrong when used in storytelling. The fact that we use clichés so often in our everyday lives is perhaps why their appearances in writing are so unwelcome. Clichés when used between two people who share a general cultural experience can be especially helpful in communication. You take a phrase or comparison that you and everyone around you use all the time and with minimal effort, you’re able to communicate something the other person does not know using something they already know. 

 

 

It is only when these clichés are written down over and over within the same manuscript that we realize how often we repeat the same comparisons and allusions. It’s harder to catch how many clichés are thrown around in conversations because there typically isn’t a court reporter or a caption author following us around 24/7. Repeated use of clichés is, at best, annoying, and, at worst, takes audiences out of the story. In this post, I’m going to provide a tip for how to avoid using clichés in your writing, and, if you still need to use them, what you can do to try and make them your own. 

 

 

Avoiding Clichés

 

One of the best reasons to avoid using clichés is that too great a reliance on them can make writing look and feel lazy. As I said before, clichés are favored because they can convey a lot of information through a short phrase. However, books, TV shows, and movies aren’t meant to feel like a collection of concise snippets. A lot of the time, the sentiments held in clichés can be broken down and expanded upon. Expanding upon ideas in clichés without actually using them lets writers capture the same mood and message while making the message more accessible and giving it more depth. Here are some examples:

 

 

I loved him, so I let him go 

 

becomes

 

I watched from the kitchen window as he drove off in his truck. It wasn’t until I felt the tears dripping off my chin that I realized I was crying. Part of me wanted to run off down the road, to get to the stoplight before it changed to green. But I knew it was best for both of us that I stayed here, in the quiet of my house.

 

 

and

 

After what felt like a century, the phone rang.

 

becomes

 

I sat by the phone, tense with anticipation. I knew it would ring soon. I knew I’d jump when it did. My ears strained so hard they began to ring. My eyes bulged so much that little dots danced around my vision. My back was hunched, my fingers tingled. I felt like I was falling, sinking slowly but surely into my bed below me. And then: RING!

 

 

Breaking down clichés gives writers the power to contextualize and strengthen different elements of their writing in a way that isn’t possible by just using the clichés themselves. It challenges writers to show more than they tell while also imbuing the situation with more emotion and context. These phrases before expansion offered some context, but only generic information. When expanding upon clichés, make sure that your expansion isn’t just in length, but in meaning and relevancy to the particular scenario you’re writing.

 

 

While:

 

I broke up with my girlfriend because I wanted her to be happy. Now I’m sad but also happy because she’s going to be happy, even though we’re both sad. I did this because I love her. But we can’t be together even though I love her so I decided to break up with her because I want us both to have the opportunity to be happy.

 

 

is, in fact, longer than the cliché “I loved him/her, so I let him/her go,” you don’t really get all that much more out of it. There’s not a lot of emotion and it tells rather than shows. It’s just as essential to add to a cliché when breaking it down as it is to expand upon it.

 

 

Up-Cycling Clichés

 

When you want to convey a common idea found in a cliché, but expanding it isn’t an option, another alternative to just using the cliché is to up-cycle a pre-existing one.

 

 

For instance, in my own writing, I wanted to convey a sense of time running out in a long suspenseful way. This instance is in the fantasy novel that I’m currently working on, where time is only told through looking at the position of the sun in the sky. My first instinct was to compare the days my protagonist had left with her only friend by using the overly clichéd metaphor of sand rushing through an hourglass. I stopped, though, because that metaphor simply wouldn’t make sense within the world I had created. The culture I was writing about didn’t utilize glass, so they certainly didn’t have hourglasses. I thought about it for a few minutes. Here’s what I came up with:

 

 

“Neither knew what that particular Dei’s presence meant. Nor did they know their days of running and laughing in the garden were numbered, slowly and steadily running out, like water dripping from a leaky pail.”

 

 

By modifying an already existing image, I was able to create a message that was similar enough to sands running through an hourglass, but that also fit the rules of the setting I had established. The modification of the cliché makes more sense than to completely replace it in this usage because the phrase is not being used to replace relevant information.

 

 

Again, just because some wordings or aspects of a cliché are changed doesn’t mean that it has been upcycled. Someone can use:

 

 

Her eyes were glistening like how the sun shines on the sea.

 

instead of

 

Her eyes sparkled, like glistening pools.

 

 

Yes, the modified cliché is more detailed, but unless these details are relevant to the story being told.  If the character thinking this has a particular attachment or connection to the ocean or watching the sunshine on the ocean or if the sun on the ocean is a motif used throughout the story, then this modification works. However, this modification, in most cases, would have no purpose. It’s just a repackaging of the same bland overused cliché.

 

 

In summary, think of writing with clichés in terms of the opening of the Spongebob episode “One Krab’s Trash.”

 

 

 

While clichés are useful in conversations, they are a lot like the second-hand toilet plunger from the garbage that Mr. Krabs sells to Patrick. While it can be rebranded as a “17th-century soup ladle” in order to be more appealing, you’re probably better off using something else.