Abusing Those Poor Idioms

Last week, I posted about using foreign-language slangs in your novel. Angela left a comment that had me thinking:

I have an Australian character in my novel, and I had to watch that I didn't overuse the term "mate." I watched video clips/movies to get an idea of how often they actually said "mate" and was surprised that from what I could see...it was quite often!

Last year, I critted a novel in which the author abused ‘eh’. One of characters was a Canadian expatriate, and the author assumed, like most non-Canadians, that we use ‘eh’ in every sentence.

We don’t

Not even close.

Unless, maybe, you’re from the east coast.

So why did she do it? Because she had heard Canadians say ‘eh.’ A lot.

The problem is Canadians love to make fun of that stereotype. It’s in our sitcoms and movies (comedies) that we know the Americans are going to watch. In the ten plus years I’ve known my husband, I’ve never heard him say, “Eh.” Occasionally, I might catch one of my friends saying it, but it really isn’t that often.

The best thing to do is ask a native of the country you’re portraying to find out what it true. The use of an idiom or utterance may vary according to location, or even according to demographics. And even if they say it often, still don’t abuse it in your novel. It’ll become annoying. It’s the same as ‘totally’ and ‘like’. Listen to teens. They say them all the time. But we all know you should never overuse those two words in your teen novel, right?

Those Tricky Little Idioms

As I pointed out yesterday, one of the things I loved about Perfect Chemistry and Rules of Attraction is how Simone Elkeles used Mexican slangs in the dialogue and inner thoughts.

Because my main character’s best friend is Mexican, I decided to do the same thing as Simone, but not quite to the same degree. For starters, the Spanish used in Perfect Chemistry was predominantly swearing, words that would leave your grandmother blushing, or terms of endearment. Instead, I decided to use only a few words and phrases. Plus, the best friend is only in a handful of scenes.

When you use foreign slangs, you have to be careful. You can’t take a dictionary and translate your English phrase word for word into the other language. You might be creating a sentence that means something different to what you intended. And the results might be very embarrassing.

My two youngest kids are in a Spanish bilingual program at school. I asked my daughter’s kindergartner teacher about some of the phrases I used, to make sure they were correct. One I especially wanted to know was ‘Está muy caliente’, which in English translates to ‘he’s very hot’. Or does it?

My daughter’s teacher said I could use the term, so I was surprised when I read the following in Rules of Attraction by Simone Elkeles:

She flashes me a sexy smile and leans closer. “Estás muy caliente.” I think she just called me hot. That’s not the way we say it in Meh-hee-co, but I get the idea.

Whoa, I thought. Then what does it mean? I spent the next hour, online, pouring through idioms to find out what it meant in Mexico. Okay, so here’s the part where I used the phrase in my novel. The italicized phrase is the proper translation of it

“You should definitely give Aaron a chance. He’s cute. Very horny.” She started counting his attributes on her fingers.

Yep, you can stop laughing now. That’s definitely not what my character wanted to say.

So, when you want to add foreign slangs in your story, make sure you check out a foreign slang dictionary specific to the country your character is from. Remember, idioms used in England can be very different to those used in Canada or the US. The same is true for Spanish idioms spoken in Mexico compared to those spoken in Spain. Also, any time you use a foreign language in your story (whether it’s a word or a phrase), it’s italicized.

Has anyone else used foreign slangs in their stories? Hopefully you didn’t make the same mistake as me.

Doing the Impossible

Sitting in the chair, Anja walked over to the window.

Dear friends, has your character ever done two things at once that were impossible? Did you even realizing you were making this common mistake? Not to worry, I’m here to set you straight.

The –ing construction is a beautiful thing. It enables us to vary our sentences. That’s a good thing, right? But it’s important to know how to use them probably. Misuse them, and your writing will be weak.

Now sure, the above example could happen . . . if you’re Mr. Bean or tied to the chair, I guess. But I can guarantee the guy who wrote this didn’t mean for it to come off the way it sounded. So always ask yourself, can my character physically do both the actions at the same time? Maybe it would be better if your character did action one first then the second one.

Instead of: Rummaging through my beach bag, I pulled out my book. (I critted a similar sentence once. It requires one hand to rummage while the other pulls out the book.)

Rewrite it: I rummaged through my beach bag, and pulled out my book.

In the above sentence, you can add the comma to give the sense of pausing the sentence while the character rummages through the bag (stylistic use of the comma), or you can skip on it.

The other thing to remember is to make the dependent clause the least important action of the two.

Staring at him, I tried to make sense of his words.

Trying to make sense of his words, I stared at him.

By switching the two actions around, it changes the emphasis of the sentence. The same thing is true if you use ‘as’ instead of the ‘-ing’ contruction.

As I stared at him, I tried to make sense of his words.

Also, don’t forget to set off you dependent clause with a comma.

Incorrect: I stared at him trying to make sense of his words.

Correct: I stared at him, trying to make sense of his words.

If you don’t add the comma, then the –ing verb will be describing the noun before it and not the subject of the sentence. For example:

Several ducks swam near the bull rushes waving in the warm breeze.

The bull rushes are waving, not the ducks.

And finally, make sure you don’t overuse the –ing construction. A little salt is good for flavoring. Too much will lead to hypertension (high blood pressure). And trust me, that’s not a good thing.

Leaping Back in Time (part 2)

Yesterday, I discussed the use of flashbacks to help convey emotion in a scene. Today, I’m going to discuss verb tense in a flashback.

Many novice writers use the past perfect tense (if the novel is in past tense) or past tense (novel is in present tense) though the whole flashback. Here’s an example from my novel, Lost in a Heartbeat, which shows how not to write the flashback and then how to. I’ve highlighted the past perfect verb so it’s easy to see the difference. (Hint: you don't have to read far to get my point. Save yourself the time. You can just eyeball the difference.)

At his touch, common sense bailed on me. His lips were warm and inviting. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to kiss him, that undeniable pull. I returned his kiss, tasting his sweet, minty breath, not wanting the moment to end. But the memory of another came back to haunt me.

I had been in the car of the guy from last summer. He’d promised to drive me home since I had been feeling really weird. I had closed my eyes so the world would stop spinning, and had told him where I lived. The words had sounded strange, slurred and weary. I hadn’t been even sure he had heard me over the rock music booming through the enclosed space.


The car had eventually stopped and the engine had been turned off. But instead of familiar houses, darkness and trees had surrounded us. Beyond that I had been unable to see anything that would tell me where we were. I had wanted to ask him, but I had felt too out of it to string the words together.


The guy had leaned forward and kissed me. It had started out sweet. His lips brushing against mine. But as seconds had passed, it became insistent and punishing. I had wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop, but I had been unable to. My arms had lacked the strength to do anything but hang lifelessly at my sides.
He had continued to kiss me, his hand trailing up my inner thigh, past the hem of my skirt, and pausing for a breath at the junction where underwear had met thigh.

With tears streaming down my face, I pushed myself free, shoving him as hard as I could, and scrambled away.


“Shit! Calleigh, I’m sorry.”


A hand grabbed my left arm. I screamed and yanked my arm away then slugged my attacker in the face with the heel of my right hand like I’d seen on TV.


My wrist shrieked in pain.


Groaning loudly, the guy staggered back a step, his hand automatically going to his eye. It was then that I realized it was Aaron, not the guy from that night.

Whew! That was exhausting adding all those extra hads. Now, if you're writing that epic 200,000 + word novel, then go ahead and use as many hads as you want. Every extra word counts, right? And if you managed to read all of that, I commend you. I couldn't do it.

Okay for the rest of us, here's the correct way:

At his touch, common sense bailed on me. His lips were warm and inviting. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to kiss him, that undeniable pull. I returned his kiss, tasting his sweet, minty breath, not wanting the moment to end. But the memory of another came back to haunt me.


I was in the car of the guy from last summer. He’d promised to drive me home since I was feeling really weird. I closed my eyes so the world would stop spinning, and told him where I lived. The words sounded strange, slurred and weary. I wasn’t even sure he heard me over the rock music booming through the enclosed space.


The car eventually stopped and the engine was turned off. But instead of familiar houses, darkness and trees surrounded us. Beyond that I couldn’t see anything that would tell me where we were. I wanted to ask him, but I felt too out of it to string the words together.


The guy leaned forward and kissed me. It started out sweet. His lips brushing against mine. But as seconds passed, it became insistent and punishing. I wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. My arms lacked the strength to do anything but hang lifelessly at my sides.


He continued to kiss me, his hand trailing up my inner thigh, past the hem of my skirt, and pausing for a breath at the junction where underwear met thigh.


With tears streaming down my face, I pushed myself free, shoving him as hard as I could, and scrambled away. . . .

See the difference? The second example allows you to be in the moment. It flows better. The first one is awkward. All you need to do is add one perfect past tense verb (had) at the beginning and at end of the flashback to show the transition in and out. If your novel is in present tense, then use past tense once when you’re starting and once when you’re about to jump back to the present.

You might have noticed I didn’t signal when the flashback ended. The sentence “With tears streaming down my face . . . .” is in the present moment, but Calleigh doesn’t realize it at that point. She and the reader realize her mistake after she reacts and hits Aaron. I didn’t transition with the change in verb tense because it’s obvious the flashback is over.

So there you go. A mini lesson on writing flashbacks. Do them correctly, and it’ll make a huge difference in your writing. The best thing to do is study how your favorite authors write them. You’ll learn a lot by doing that.

Leaping Back in Time (part 1)

To help the reader connect with your characters, you need to show the characters’ emotions. Flashbacks are a good way to enhance emotion in a scene. Instead of telling why the character feels this way, you show it based on events that happened in the past. However, before you add a flashback to a scene, there’re some important points you need to know.

1. Stories move forward, right? But flashbacks move back in time. Using a flashback can slow the pace of your story and can leave your readers frustrated. They just want to keep reading the immediate action, not be forced to jump back and forth.

2. Make sure your flashback is there for a good reason. Don’t include it just for the sake of having one.

3. Only include the most relevant information. Don’t go off on some other tangent because you think it sounds cool. Get in and out as quickly as possible.

4. Avoid using them in your first chapter.


Types of flashbacks:

1. Narration: This is the sentence or short paragraph that tells you about an event in a character’s past. You’re quickly in and out of the flashback before the story has a chance to stop.

2. Scene within a scene: This flashback includes action and dialogue—like a regular scene. You’re there with the character, living her emotions at that moment, so when she steps back into the present, her emotions there take on a more vivid feel.

3. A combination of the two.

Another point you need to consider is how you’re going to transition in and out of the flashback. You want to avoid jumping up and down, screaming, “Flashback starts here!” Jessica Morrell has some great advice and examples in, Writing Between the Lines. Remember, you’ll need something significant to trigger the memory, but avoid this mistake:

Seeing the apple, Brianna remembered back to the time when she was three years old and visited her aunt on the set of Days of Our Lives.

If every time Brianna sees an apple and remembers that day, then I suggest she gets therapy. Then find something unique as a trigger. Oh and a hint, that was a lousy transition.

Okay, that’s enough to absorb for one day. The rest of the lesson will be posted tomorrow.

Clichés, Subtext, POV, Oh my!

I’ve almost finished week #2 of my YA writer’s workshop, so I thought I’d share with you some of the stuff I’ve learned so far. I’ll admit most of what I’ve studied isn’t new to me. I’ve already read a zabillion books on writing. But sometimes it’s nice to get a little reminder or two of the important stuff to pay attention to.

For obvious reasons, I’m not going to print off the lecture notes. I will, though, share a few things I’ve noticed while critting my classmates’ assignments, plus include some important stuff covered in the course. Last week the focus was on POV. This week it’s dialogue.

1. What your character doesn’t say is as important as what they do say. This is known as subtext, and a whole chapter is dedicated to the topic in one of my favorite books on writing: Getting Into Character by Brandilyn Collins.

2. Make sure you know proper dialogue mechanics . . . unless you want an agent to reject your novel based on the first page. There’re a lot of books on writing dialogue, and they all cover this important topic. Please don’t fudge it. These are the rules you can’t ignore.

3. Please pay attention to your character’s point of view. One of the assignments I critted had the main character jump into another character’s head. Sorry you can’t do that--unless it’s a paranormal novel. Another writer was also confused by POV. She asked me, since the main character’s mom’s name is Bonnie Tyler (not the real name), if she can alternate between Bonnie and Mrs Tyler in the narration. The answer is no. Because the POV character’s a teen, she would refer to Mrs Tyler as either ‘her mom’ or ‘Alyson’s mom’ (the novel is in third person) in the narration. There are, of course, exceptions to this.

If you find yourself struggling with POV, check out The Power of Point of View: Make Your Story Come to Life by Alicia Rasley.

4. Skip on the clichéd characters. Slush piles are already loaded with tons of them. I critted one assignment in which the secondary character was the geeky team manager of the high school basketball team. And guess what? He was bullied by the jocks. Yawn. Not. Original. Fortunately, there are ways for writer to improve the characterization and strengthen the story.

In case you’re wondering, no I haven’t made any of these mistakes. Have I received tons of feedback to make my novel better? Uh . . . well . . . no. From my classmates’ perspective, I handed in another kick-ass assignment. My instructor’s comments made me realize the drawbacks to the course. She doesn’t know what happened in the preceding chapters, so what she perceives might be a problem, isn’t. There are things at stake in the scene. My main character does have a motive. And both the characters have opposing scene objectives (okay, the instructor didn’t bring up this point, but it's in my favorite book on writing).

Regardless of these drawbacks, I’m happy with the feedback in the workshop. And at least I know my teen dialogue is authentic. Believe me, that’s a huge deal. Plus I'm editing those excerpt of my novel like crazy, and focusing on my "issue." That in itself is worth it.

I hope that helps. Next week’s lesson is on writing YA emotions. And we know what a roller coaster ride that can be.

Body Part Workout

Two weeks ago, Kate Testerman (agent) posted on her blog about smirk and other words to avoid. Now the problem wasn’t so much the words, but how often they might show up in a manuscript. For example, I read one popular YA paranormal novel in which the main character or one of her friends rolled their eyes for a grand—and painful—total of between 100-200 times. Sometimes eye rolling occurred twice on the same page. Fortunately, for the next book in the series, the author found some other gesture to overuse.

It was really Jodi Meadow’s comment that got me thinking. She mentioned that some writers get obsessed with a particular action—say breathing—and use it way too many times in order to demonstrate emotion. Gulp. Guilty as charged. Since I have a background in physiology, especially cardiology, and spent eight years prompting cardiovascular drugs and ones for asthma, I have a bad habit of relying on anything to do with breathing and the heart when describing emotions.

After reading Jodi’s comments, I used the FIND function in Word to see how many times I’d abused the terms. I’m not going to tell you the exact numbers, but it was way beyond embarrassing. I then highlighted them using a different color for each body system I used. Determined to cut the number to something I could count on one hand (and I mean major cutting), I systemically went through the pages. Anything I thought was important, I kept. Anything I knew wasn’t a big deal was either cut or rewritten. I did this several times till I was able to negotiate my way down to my goal. And the best thing is, my writing’s much stronger for it.

So give it a try. Is there some word or phrase you think you might be abusing? Do what I did. You’ll be shocked at how many times you can remove the offending item and not even miss it. I promise.

Note: dramatization of Lost in a Heartbeat was brought to you by Wordle.

The Thesaurus Extraordinaire

Most people are familiar with the thesaurus. You’re writing a paper and you used the same word several times. Repetition is never good; actually it can be plain boring. So you grab your thesaurus and search for another word. Or better yet, you can grab your copy of Roget’s International Thesaurus, and you’ll be greeted by more exciting choices than you ever thought possible. Way more choices than in a regular thesaurus.

Unlike the typical thesaurus, which is listed in alphabetic order, words in the Roget’s International Thesaurus are listed according to categories. You look up the word you want in the index (which is listed alphabetically) and it will refer you to several different categories. You pick the one(s) that best represent the definition you’re looking for then zip over to the appropriate page. You’ll be astounded; I promise.

If you’re not positive what word you’re looking for, then you can skim through the categories listed at the front of the book to get some suggestions. For example, you want to talk about your protagonist’s fear of spiders.

You could say: I felt scared.

Or worse yet: I was scared.

Not good enough, you think. So you skim though the categories in Roget’s International Thesaurus and decide to show the movement of fear going through your body. Hmmm. Streams flow. So you flip to the section under streams, and study the verbs listed. Now this isn’t some tiny spider that’s causing ‘fear to seep’ into your body. It’s huge. Like one of those from the second Harry Potter movie, The Chamber of Secrets. Now your ‘fear surges’ through your body, or any of the other vivid verb that appeal to you. See how easy that was to breathe life into your writing? And the best part is the book isn’t expensive. It’s the same price of a YA hardback novel.

Don’t Leave ’Em Dangling

I focused on the lake, instead of looking at Mike, partially surrounded by the forest.

When you read the above sentence, it looks as if Mike is partially surrounded by the forest. However, that’s not what I intended. The correct sentence should read:

Instead of looking at Mike, I focused on the lake, partially surrounded by the forest.

Do you notice the difference? The modifier “partially surrounded by the forest” is next to the noun it’s describing. The forest is partially surrounding the lake, not Mike. Quite a different image, right?

Misplaced modifiers generally occur when you’re writing the first draft, since you’re racing to get your thoughts down before they slip away. The modifiers can occur at the beginning, middle, or at the end of a sentence. When you go back to edit, check all your clauses and modifying words to make sure they are next to the noun you want to modify. Circle the noun you want to describe. If the clause is at the beginning of the sentence, it will be directly in front of the noun. Otherwise, it will be directly after it. If they are modifying the wrong noun, rewrite your sentence so that they are linked with the correct one, or else the result might be quite comical.

She extended toward the guy her hand who I guessed to be about my age. Seventeen, maybe eighteen.

Get active!

Now I’m not talking about going skiing or running or anything other activity that gets you moving. I’m referring to giving your verbs a workout.

There are two types of verbs for the intent of this discussion: passive and active. Passive verbs include verbs such as to be. Bonnie Trenga also throws the following verbs into the pile: to do, to get, to go, to have, to make, and to use. Action verbs, on the other hand, are more action packed—hence their name. Passive verbs are boring. Action verbs aren’t.


Examples:
I went over to the mall entrance. (passive)
I zigzagged between harried shoppers on my way to the mall entrance. (active)

Notice which one paints a more vivid picture. Don’t get me wrong though, there are times when passive verbs are okay, but the idea is switch to an active verb when at all possible.

Next time you write a paper, take your highlighter and mark all those passive verbs, then see which ones you can make more exciting. Your teacher (and grade) will thank you.

Suggested Reading:
Sin and Syntax: How to Craft Wickedly Effective Prose by Constance Hale
The Curious Case of the Misplaced Modifier: How to Solve the Mysteries of Weak Writing by Bonnie Trenga

Oh Me Oh Mi of Overwriting

Janie runs quickly through the incredibly snowy yards from two streets away and slips very quietly through the bright purple front door of her two story house complete with cream-colored siding and a roof that needs to be repair.

And then.

Everything goes really black. Pitch black. As black as the night.

She holds her head tightly, cursing her mother under her minty breath as the whirling, twirling, swirling kaleidoscope of colors—red, orange, green, purple—builds quickly and throws her completely and utterly off balance. She bumps hard and painfully against the dirty white wall, the paint peeling in quite a few places and holds on really hard, and then very slowly lowers herself blindly to the worn carpeted floor as her fingers, with the beautifully painted long fingernails, go numb. The last thing she really needs is to crack her head wide open. Again.

Welcome to the not-so-wonderful world of overwriting. This is where the eager writer drowns his pose in adverbs and adjective, thinking it makes the writing more vivid. This is one of those times when the saying ‘less is more’ really does apply. As you can see from the above version of Lisa McMann’s novel, Fade (New York Times bestseller), all those adjectives and adverbs do nothing for the story. If anything, they bury Lisa’s compelling voice. Compare it to the actual version from the novel.

Janie sprints through the snowy yards from two streets away and slips quietly through the front door of her house.

And then.

Everything goes black.

She grips her head, cursing her mother under her breath as the whirling kaleidoscope of colors builds and throws her off balance. She bumps against the wall and holds on, and then slowly lowers herself blindly to the floor as her fingers go numb. The last thing she needs is to crack her head open. Again.

Do you see the difference?

In the first version, weak verbs are modified with adverbs. For example, ‘runs quickly, instead of ‘sprints’ and ‘holds her head tightly’ instead of ‘grips her head’. If you find you’re reaching for an adverb--especially one ending in –ly--to describe the verb, then grab your thesaurus and look up ‘run’. You’ll find an array of better words (bolt, sprint, dash, etc) that paint a concrete picture of what you’re character is doing.

For adjectives, don’t place a list of them in front of the noun. Try to keep it down to two. If you need to include more, than place some of them behind the noun. For example: Instead of “Tired, bruised, wearing a bloodied, torn dress, Alyssa stumbled along the road.” Write, “Tired and bruised, Alyssa, her dress bloodied and torn, stumbled along the road.” Also, delete any adjectives that are redundant. For example: a baby kitten is like saying a baby baby. All kittens are babies. Right?

Exercise: For your next writing project—fiction or non-fiction—highlight all the adjectives and adverbs, and see how many you can cut out and how many verb/adverb combinations you can replace with dynamic verbs. Your reader (and teacher) will thank you for it.

Recommended reading:
Sin and Syntax: How to Craft Wickedly Effective Prose, Constance Hale

Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us: A (Sort of) Compassionate Guide to Why Your Writing Is Being Rejected, Jessica Morrell

Note: This super cool picture was generated using the Wordle program at http://www.wordle.net/.

The Mysterious Voice

As mentioned last week, the voice is what grabs your reader from the beginning and keeps them reading. It’s highly subjective, though. What one person may love, may turn another reader off. Oh well. No one said writing was easy.

But what is the narrative voice? According to Jessica Morrell (see recommended reading), it is “the distinct and memorable sound of the writer, narrator, or character.” The voice, in fiction, will depend on who the narrator is. Is she witty, serious, or conversational? Is she more comfortable discussing fashion or discussing Jane Austen (or maybe both)? Is she from an upper class, middle class, or lower class family? Does she swear? A little or a lot? Is she basically happy with her life or depressed? Is she a romantic or a cynic? All of these will shape the narrative voice.

Here are a few examples from teen novels:

City of Glass, Cassandra Clare (fantasy)

Clary had gone straight to the Institute after she’d talked to Madeleine at the hospital. Jace had been the first one she’d told her mother’s secret to, before even Luke. And he’d stood there and stared at her, getting paler and paler as she spoke, as if she weren’t so much telling him how she could save her mother as draining the blood out of him with cruel slowness.

Parties & Potions, Sarah Mlynowski (chick lit)

Do I like red?

I pirouette before the mirror. Yes, the red shirt could work. Red makes my hair look super-glossy and glamorous and goes great with my favorite jeans.

If I do say so myself.

The shirt has a scooped neckline and adorable bubble sleeves. It’s my back-to-school top for the big, BIG day tomorrow—the very first day of sophomore year! My BFF, Tammy, and I went shopping last week for the occasion. I know I could have just zapped something up, but the first rule of witchcraft is that everything comes from something. I didn’t want to accidentally shoplift a new shirt from Bloomingdale’s.

Along for the Ride, Sarah Dessen (contemporary)

Ten minutes later, I was slipping out the side door, my shoes tucked under my arm, and getting into my car. I drove down the mostly empty streets, past quiet neighbourhoods and dark storefronts, until the lights of Ray’s Diner appeared in the distance. Small, with entirely too much neon, and tables that were always a bit sticky, Ray’s was the only place in town open twenty-four hours, 365 days a year. Since I hadn’t been sleeping, I’d spent more nights than not in a booth there, reading or studying, tipping a buck every hour on whatever I ordered until the sun came up.

Wake, Lisa McMann (paranormal)

Janie Hannagan’s math book slips from her fingers. She grips the edge of the table in the school library. Everything goes black and silent. She sighs and rests her head on the table. Tries to pull herself out of it, but fails miserably. She’s too tired today. Too hungry. She really doesn’t have time for this.

And then.

As you can see from the examples above, the voice is unique for each one. Cassandra Clare is, in my opinion, the master of imagery. Sarah Dessen has a more formal voice. Both used longer, more complex sentences in their novels. Lisa’s voice is compelling with short sentences and sentence fragments (either the noun or the verb is missing), both of which are used frequently throughout the novel. All four use sentence structure and word choices that fit their voice.

The main thing with the voice is to be consistent. You don’t want to start off sounding like Cassandra and end up sounding like Lisa. Not that you should try to copy their voices, either. Experiment until you find the right one for your character. And make sure it sounds natural and not forced and unauthentic.

But what about non-fiction? Does it have a voice or is that only in fiction? Yes, it absolutely has a voice. Figure out what the purpose of the term paper is, then determine the best voice for it. Theme can also play a role here. Of course, if you’re writing a term paper on Romeo and Juliet, you might want to avoid the snarky voice. When in doubt, ask your teacher first. Some prefer a formal voice; some would be delighted if you write something that sticks out from the pile of dull essays. Again, make sure it doesn’t sound forced. Nothing flops faster than humor that misses the mark.

Exercise: Study different novels, short stories, and non-fiction works (magazine articles, books, newspapers) and see what you like and don’t like in a particular voice. Next try to create a voice for a short story or non-fiction article based on your findings. Don’t worry, it might be a mess at first, but you won’t know until you’ve experimented. And don’t be afraid to play around with different voices. You might surprise yourself.

Recommended Readings:
Writing & Selling the YA Novel, K.L. Going

Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us, Jessical Morrell

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, Renni Browne and Dave King

Riveting First Words

Whether you’re writing a term paper, short story, or novel, your first words have an important job to do. They grab the reader’s attention, leaving ’em begging for more. Fail to do that, and your reader will find something more exciting to do, like cleaning the lint from her belly button.

Everyone has different expectations as to what makes a great first paragraph of a story. Genre and personal preference play a large role here. But the most important thing to grab your reader’s attention is the voice. Take note, this is also true for term papers. Not to leave you in suspense or anything, but I’ll be discussing the mysterious voice next week.

There are a few things you want to avoid in the first paragraph of your story:

1. Rambling beginnings where nothing is happening except for a long detailed description of your setting and main character. Boring!


2. Overwriting. This means too many adverbs and adjectives. I’ll be discussing this topic more in the near future.


3. Jumping in without giving the reader anything to cling to. Why should we care about your protagonist as she jumps off a cliff?


4. Asking questions. I read a first paragraph recently from an unpublished fiction writer. In it, the protagonist asked five questions. The paragraph had only six sentences in it to begin with. You want your readers to be asking the questions, not the protagonist. If your readers are asking them, then they’ll keep reading because they want to discover the answers. Right?


5. Starting with your protagonist waking up, unless she’s jarred awake by someone entering her room. If you do this, then build the suspense (always a goodie for opening paragraphs) so the reader has to go to the next paragraph to find out who the perpetrator is. A vampire. A criminal. Her older sister coming in through the window after sneaking around with the boyfriend her parents disapprove of. Isn’t that more riveting than having Janie wake up, look at the alarm clock, and deliberate what to wear to school?

Those are but a few suggestions as to how not to start your story. But then how should it begin? The books listed below have some great ideas, but I found them orientated more toward adult novels. The best thing is to do a little detective work of your own. Grab your favorite novels or short stories, and study their opening paragraphs to see what you like about them and what turns you off. Then keep that in mind for your next fiction project.

Here’s one of my favorites:

Phoebe and her friends held their breath as the dead girl in the plaid skirt walked past their table in the lunchroom. Her motion kicked up a cool trailing breeze that seemed to settle on the skin and catch in their hair. As they watched her go by, Phoebe could almost tell what everyone was thinking. Everyone, that is, except for the dead girl. (Generation Dead, Daniel Waters)

What could be more compelling than that?

Recommended readings:

Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us: A (Sort of) Compassionate Guide to Why Your Writing Is Being Rejected, Jessica Morrell

Hooked: write fiction that grabs readers at page one and never lets them go, Les Edgerton

Note: This super cool picture was generated using the first 100 pages of my YA novel, Lost in a Heartbeat, using the Wordle program at http://www.wordle.net/.